Sydrian Snapshots
by sksai
Summary: The PG-13 version of Sydrian Roundup, sort of. Here there will be drabbles, one shots, and prompts. All my standalone sydrian stuff that isn't smut. These will be more on the drabbley side (sometimes) and AU heavy. Strong T rating.
1. The Next Logical Step

**A/N: So like I stated in the summary, this is really just me wanting to put all my tumblr/ao3 stuff in one place. Sorry if you do follow me on tumblr and have already read all this stuff, but at least it will all be in one place now if you ever want to reread? Maybe? I'm sorry, I'm disappointing, I know. **

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**Prompt: can you write a drabble/fic/anything/evenonebloodysentence of the first time sydrian makeouts escalated into topless makeouts? I AM IN DESPERATE NEED OF THIS**

I stood behind my girlfriend, rubbing her shoulders reassuringly. "Everything is going to be okay. Just take a deep breath."

"Everything is _not_ going to be okay," she argued, her voice quavering. "Don't you realize Zoe being sent here isn't just because I yelled at Stanton?" She winced, probably still mentally kicking herself for doing that. I placed a small kiss on the back of her head. "I shouldn't have been so careless with Ian, either. And if they find out about the ta-" She stopped abruptly once she felt my lips touch the side of her neck. I let my hands slide down to settle on her waist. "Oh, Adrian…stop…stop that. I need to th—think…" I ignored her protests, because thinking was precisely the last thing she needed to be doing right now, simply trailing soft kisses slowly down until I reached the sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder. I flicked my tongue over the area and felt her tense up against me. I smiled against her skin, placing another kiss there, harder this time. When I heard that low, soft sound in the back of her throat, I knew I'd won. She turned around to face me, face flushed with frustration. Of the sexual kind, and otherwise.

"I don't know what you're smirking about," she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Making out isn't going to solve anything."

"You need to relax," I told her, "You've been doing nothing but stressing over this since she got here. You're going to drive yourself crazy like this. Take it from someone who knows." My hands returned to their position around her waist. "Just let your brain check out for awhile."

"I can't…" she huffed, knitting her eyebrows together, "I don't know how to do that."

"Allow me to offer my assistance," I murmured, leaning in to place my mouth firmly against hers. She reacted to the kiss immediately, causing my grip on her waist to tighten. Even in her frenzied state she was still just as hungry for me as I was for her. I was still sort of grappling with that. You know, the whole Sydney actually wanting to be with me thing. As happy as I was, it terrified me. I didn't want to screw this up. I didn't want to push her too far too fast or do anything that might send her running back to the alchemists or to Mexico or anywhere else that was away from me.

Apparently, I needn't have worried about such things, because the next thing I knew Sydney's hands were halfway up my shirt, her fingertips blazing trails up my bare back. I stumbled backward in surprise as she tugged at the fabric until it somehow ended up over my head, and we fell onto my couch.

"You alright there, Sage?" I pulled back from our frantic kisses to give her a teasing smile. The look in her eyes was far from what I'd define as _alright_. I was reminded of the way she had looked in the spirit dream we'd shared after her fake date with Ian. Her golden eyes were alit with a wild, fiery determination. It made my breath catch. She looked like some sort of fierce feline predator, ready to strike on her poor, unsuspecting prey. I could only hope I was the prey in question.

Instead of pouncing on me, much to my dismay, she leaned back in my lap and took a deep breath. I groaned inwardly, certain this was going to be the part where she chastised herself for being so impulsive and ran out the door.

"You're thinking," I said softly, reaching up to touch her face. "That's against the rules."

She smiled, like she knew something I didn't. Then, in one swift motion, reached down to pull the dark grey blouse she was wearing over her head and tossed it rather carelessly onto the floor behind her. "Um," she said after a moment, seeming to realize the gravity of what she'd just done. "I'll need to iron that before I leave."

I would have laughed, but I was little preoccupied with the view in front of me. Sydney, to be exact, without a shirt on. In my lap without a shirt on. We both, I think it's important to note, did not have shirts on. I ran my hands slowly up her bare sides in awe. Her creamy, flawless skin was surely the softest, most glorious thing I'd ever touched. My fingers grazed over the band of her bra, which was a dark purple wrapped in black lace. I wanted to snapshot this moment forever in my mind. The color against her skin, the way it offset her eyes, her flushed cheeks, her hair all in disarray, she was so unbelievably beautiful.

"What?" she asked innocently, leaning forward again to kiss me. The moment her bare skin touched mine, I was lost. "You act like you've never seen a girl in her bra before."

"I've never seen _you_ in your bra before," I whispered, still dazed.

She pulled away slightly, looking down with a shy smile. "I thought you'd like it."

"Like doesn't begin to cover the emotion I am overwhelmed with at the moment," I told her, letting my fingers play at one of the straps. She didn't stop me or pull away, to my amazement. "It's purple," I noted.

"You said it was my color," she shrugged, still smiling. I bit my lip. I had a feeling she knew exactly was she was doing to me. And liked it. She leaned in to me, dropping her voice low. "And the lace detailing at the bottom is so pretty, don't you think?"

"I do think it adds a nice touch," I murmured as our foreheads connected. "It seems like a lot of hard work went into the design, the kind of hard work that would include a matching piece?"

When she realized what I was referring to, she shook her head. "That's classified information."

"I have clearance," I assured her. "I'm with Homeland Security. I believe this requires a very thorough investigat-" She shut me up with another kiss, pushing us into a lying position on the couch. _I'm gonna see that underwear_, I thought determinedly to myself. And then our legs wound around each other, our hands explored each other's bare skin shamelessly, followed by our mouths, and there was no talking or thinking, for quite some time.


	2. Apodyopis

**Tumblr Prompt: **

**Cheiloproclitic -** Being attracted to someones lips.  
**Apodyopis - **The act of mentally undressing someone.  
**Gymnophoria -** The sensation that someone is mentally undressing you.  
**Sphallolalia** - Flirtatious talk that leads no where.

Imagine this is set somewhere in the timeline of TGL, btw

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"It's gonna be melted by the time you even take a bite," I scoffed, watching Sydney dubiously eye the pomegranate gelato that I was, as she so vehemently put it, forcing her to eat. This was absolute slander, of course. I won our little wager fair and square. She was just being a sore loser.

"It's weird with you watching me like this!" She exclaimed, cheeks flushing. I swear, she was the only person in the world who could get this flustered over eating two goddamned scoops of ice cream. I would have thought it was cute, if I didn't have my troubling theories about why she was so weird with food. I wasn't about to bring that up right now, though.

Instead, I flashed her a victorious smile. "I just want to enjoy my reward, after all."

Sydney sighed deeply, digging the spoon into the gelato with such dejection I couldn't help but laugh. She flashed me a deathly glare, then slowly, slowly, brought the spoon to her mouth. I watched as Sydney's rose colored lips curled delicately around the spoon, sucking the gelato off it in a way I could only describe a s_suggestive_. Though I hardly thought that's what she was going for. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing again.

"You're enjoying this way too much," she shook her head, eyes still full of contempt. "Either you just really like torturing me or you've got some weird fetish with ice cream that you haven't told me about."

I laughed hard at that. God, Sage could be really funny when she wanted to. "Maybe it's a little bit of both," I gave her an overly cheesy wink, just to set her off. "Go on," I said, scooting the bowl closer to her. "One bite down, only a couple hundred more to go at the rate you're going." She dug the spoon into the gelato again, scooping up a much bigger amount.

"Oh yeah, that's what I'm talking about," I teased, making my voice sound hoarse. "And do it slower this time."

"Ugh!", was all she was able to manage. "You are so…so…ugh!" But she was smiling now too. It was hard to get a real smile out of Sage, and for some reason I always felt immense pleasure when I was able to do it. Her lips were turning a darker, almost purple color now, as she brought tiny spoonful after tiny spoonful to her lips, always taking her time to slowly suck the gelato from the spoon. As much as I was making a joke of it, Jesus, it was kind of hot. She had a cute little mouth. Pouty, soft lips. Well, they looked soft anyway. I wouldn't know. There were a lot of things I didn't know about her, though I wanted to. I wanted to know so much. Everything from her favorite song to what she wore to bed every night. I had to stop thinking about her like this, I knew that. But sometimes it was hard to rein in my fantasies. Like right now, for instance. Watching her seductively eat ice cream right in front of me was just a little too hard to deal with.

Afraid of what I'd start thinking about if I kept watching her suck on her spoon like_that_, I let my gaze travel downward. She was actually wearing a sort of revealing top today. Well, revealing for Sage, anyway. It was a plain dark v-neck t shirt. But it fit slim to her body, actually showing off her small curves. What was hiding underneath that shirt? I imagined my hands sliding down to the hem of it, slowly lifting it over her head. I imagined her shivering as my fingers grazed her deliciously bare skin. She'd blush, probably. Shy. God, it would be so hot. I'd slide my hands down her bare sides and she'd sigh. I'd bring my hands to the front of her probably khaki pants. Unbutton. Unzip. Slide them down her thighs and hold her hips steady as she stepped out of them. And then she'd be in her underwear. I wondered what kind she wore. _God. Stop it, Adrian. Stop thinking about Sage in her fucking underwear. She's sitting right in front of you!_

_But what if she was sitting right in front of you in her underwear? _A traitorous voice in the back of my mind egged me on. I imagined her eating the gelato, just as she was now, except wearing nothing but a lacy bra and panties. I imagined the ice cream going all melty, accidentally dribbling onto her neck, her chest. I'd be no gentleman if I didn't help her clean herself up. With my mouth.

I looked up from my last bite of ice cream, ready to give Adrian a smug smile. He didn't think I'd be able to eat the whole thing. Ha. I may have felt like a beached whale right now, but at least I'd proved him wrong. And the gelato had been, as much as it pained me to admit, delicious.

When my eyes landed on Adrian's face, I was surprised to see his gaze had gone unfocused, eyes glazed over. For a terrifying second I worried he'd gone off the spirit rails, but he was looking right at me in a way that made my skin feel hot all over. "A-Adrian," I said, my voice inexplicably tight. His eyes slowly traveled back up to meet mine. My heart stuttered in my chest. I felt strangely exposed, naked, though it wasn't an altogether unpleasant sensation. I felt a tightness in my stomach coiling up, ready to snap.

"Adrian," I said again, willing the hot, buzzing sensations away. He blinked rapidly, seeming to snap out of his trance. But his gaze was still fixed on me, intently.

I swallowed the lump I didn't know was in my throat. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He grinned wickedly. "I was imagining how sexy you'd look with ice cream dripping all down your chest." Then, he laughed. And I felt the rushing urge to smack him.

"You are so _insufferable_!" I spat, but I was laughing along with him. The ridiculousness of it was just too much. I knew he wasn't being serious, he was just saying it for the simple pleasure of pushing my buttons. "Keep me out of your depraved ice cream fantasies, thank you very much."

"I can't help myself," he chuckled. "I think I might need to go to Ice Cream Sex Addicts Anonymous."

"I'll make sure to set you up an appointment," I rolled my eyes, still smiling.

"Thanks for being so understanding, Sage." he frowned dramatically. "This is just so…hard…to deal with." He glanced downward. "Literally."

"There, there." I reached out and patted his shoulder, trying not to break character, but it was too hard not to laugh. I mean, the thought of Adrian being aroused by watching me eat ice cream was just…it was too funny. "You've already made it through your first round of exposure therapy."

He sighed deeply, shaking his head. "What would I do without you?"

"Die, probably." I smirked, the levity of the situation taking hold of me.

"How true," he nodded seriously.

"Alright, well, I did it." I said, tilting the empty bowl in front of me toward him to see.

"Do you want a medal?" Adrian teased.

"A congratulatory something would be nice." I noted, smirking.

"Next challenge," Adrian said, ignoring my request. He looked up, pondering. He looked back down to me, smiling. Eyeing me in that odd way that made my skin flush. Finally, he said, "I'll have to think on it."

I heaved a resigned sigh. Whatever Adrian was up to, I didn't like the sound of it. But I knew I was probably going to go along with it, regardless.


	3. Parenthood

**Tumblr Prompt: Sydrian getting in a fight regarding Hopper**

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"I'm not doing this," Sydney said, taking the aquarium that held the callistana and setting it down on Adrian's coffee table as gingerly as possible in her ruffled state. It still banged against it loudly, probably enough to wake Hopper up from his nap. She was too upset to be bothered with that right now. "It's your time to take him and you know it."

"I know no such thing!" Adrian's eyebrows raised in an absurdly offended fashion. It was almost cute enough to make Sydney crack a smile. But they were fighting. This was serious business.

"I'll have you know, Miss Order and Discipline, I have a note saved on my phone of the schedule _you_ drew up for us, and I'm not supposed to take him until Sunday."

"Alright," Sydney huffed, crossing her arms. "Let's see it, then."

"Fine!" Adrian reached into his back pocket and held his phone up for them both to see. His background appeared, revealing a photo of Sydney in a half lying position on his bed, looking down at something. He must have taken it sometime when she wasn't looking. She let out a surprised squeak. "That's your phone background? You can't…you have to change it!"

Adrian sighed heavily. "It's my phone, Sage. I'm pretty sure I can make my background whatever I want."

"Um," Sydney blinked, growing intensely irritated. "News flash. Sometimes the world is a little more complicated than you always getting what _you_ want, Adrian. Like the fact that if the wrong person saw that and they-"

"Oh, stop being so paranoid!" Adrian drawled, as if Sydney were being silly. "No one looks at my phone but me. But you know what, I think I will change it. Right this very second. Because you never know, a stranger could walk into my apartment at any time, demand to see my phone background, and then where would we be?"

"Oh my God," she groaned through gritted teeth. "Just show me the stupid note." She couldn't recall ever being so annoyed with someone before. Here she was, drowning in schoolwork that she shouldn't even have to be doing, with all Ms. T's 'special assignments' on top of those, which had her running all over town at all hours of the day and night. Not to mention having to keep a constant eye on Zoe, who could not find out about that, or Hopper, or her relationship with Adrian, or about a million other things. And here was Adrian, acting like it was such a chore for him to take care of Hopper half the time, when he'd previously agreed to do so.

"I…uh-" Adrian stammered, his brow furrowing. "I can't find it. I must have deleted it accidentally. Or something."

"Ha!" Sydney scoffed. "Of course you did. Even if you were right, which I sincerely doubt, why are you acting like it's such a big deal for you to take him a few days early? Can you not fit him into your _busy schedule_?" She spat the last two words sarcastically, both of them knowing Adrian had far less on his plate currently than Sydney did.

His head turned to her sharply, hurt flashing in his emerald eyes. She felt a little bit bad, then, but her guilt was short lived once she remembered how selfish he was being.

"You're not the only one who's got shit going on, Sydney." Adrian said coldly, "I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't condescend me."

"And I'd appreciate it if you would be responsible for once in your life." As soon as the words came out of her mouth she wanted to shove them back in. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her frazzled nerves. "Adrian, I-"

"Whatever, Sydney." His tone was ice. "I'll take him. You win. So you can leave now. Go be perfect and right all the time around someone who cares, because I'm done for the foreseeable future."

Her throat snapped shut. Tears threatened to spill but she blinked them back fiercely. Attempting to clear the huge lump in her throat, she opened her mouth to try to apologize, but no sound came out. Instead, a high-pitching wailing sort of squeak sounded from below. Both their heads jerked toward the noise, seeing Hopper with his little claws pressed up against the glass of his aquarium. If it was possible for callistanas to display emotion on their faces, his was positively distraught. His eyes darted back and forth between Adrian and Sydney frantically, letting out another painful sounding squeak.

"He must not like yelling," Sydney mumbled, feeling even worse than she already did.

Adrian turned to her, his expression softening. "I think he's upset because we're fighting. We are his parents, after all." A ghost of a smile appeared on his face. With a sigh, he kneeled down in front of the aquarium, reaching a hand inside to stroke Hopper's back. "Hey, little guy, it's okay. Sometimes mommies and daddies just fight over stupid stuff. It doesn't mean they don't still love each other. Right, Sage?" He looked up at her, the smile on his face now reverted back to devastating levels of charm.

She sighed and kneeled down beside him. "Right."

"We should probably kiss now," Adrian whispered loudly. "Just to show him everything's alright."

_Smooth_, she thought, all her anger dissipating into amusement. She leaned forward to give her boyfriend a long, soft kiss. Pulling away slightly, she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," he murmured, tucking a wayward chunk of hair behind her ear.

"I'm just really stressed," she said. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you. I didn't mean what I said. You're very responsible."

He chuckled, leaning in for another quick peck. "I'm not, really. But I'm trying."

"I know you're stressed, Sage. I am too. Today hasn't been…" he paused, "very good for me."

"Spirit?" she asked, a black cloud of worry swirling in her chest.

He grimaced, then shrugged. "It's fine. I'm fine."

"Adrian," she said his name pointedly, "If you can't handle taking him right now, it's okay. I'll keep him until you're ready."

"No," his voice was adamant. "He's half my responsibility. I can handle it perfectly well. Plus, just look at him. He'd be miserable without me."

"I'd be miserable without you, too." Sydney whispered, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. After a beat she added, "I hate fighting with you."

"I don't know," Adrian's deep voice vibrated against her. "Seeing you all riled up is kinda hot, even when it's directed at me."

She lifted her head up to look at him, shaking her head.

"It's not a bad thing to fight occasionally," Adrian told her. "It means our relationship has a lot of passion."

She scoffed, smiling. "Yeah well, I'd still prefer it if our passion expressed itself in different ways."

"Oh?" Adrian's eyebrows raised suggestively. "Well, you know what typically follows a big fight in a passionate relationship?"

"What?" Sydney asked.

Adrian leaned in to press his lips directly against her ear. "Make up sex."

Sydney giggled, she'd walked right into that. "I see," she nodded seriously. "Well, we'll have to do that, then. Soon."

"How soon?" Adrian's voice was rough against her ear.

She moved so her lips were against his ear as well, placing a soft, teasing kissing there. "Very."


	4. Thirteen Minute Touch

**Tumblr Prompt: A half genderbent sydrian college AU. To clarify, Adrian is a female in this. That's what the person requested and that's what I wrote! It is very ****_mildly_**** smutty. I don't really think it deserves an M rating, but this is your warning. **

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"Hey," I shout over the pounding music, grabbing the red solo cup out of my roommate's perfectly manicured hand. "I think you need to slow down."

"What are you, my mom?" she slurs happily, throwing her arm around my neck. Her skin tight black mini dress slips down a little as she she does so and I reach across her chest instinctively to cover her.

"You told me not to let you drink too much tonight," I remind her gently as she readjusts her dress, seemingly unbothered she just practically gave a crowded room full of frat boys a show.

"Saaaaaaaaaaage," she whines, her head falling lazily onto my shoulder.

"What?" I ask, suddenly awash in the deep, spicy smell of her perfume. She wears a little too much, in my opinion, but it's become such a familiar scent I don't mind it so much. Just the other day in one of my classes I got a waft of cinnamon and my head snapped up in surprise, expecting to see Adrian looming over me with mischief flashing in her emerald green eyes, only to see it was just the bearded boy next to me obnoxiously chewing a stick of Big Red.

"Are you okay?" I ask, struggling to hold her upright and hold onto her drink at the same time. "Do you need to get sick?" It wouldn't be the first time I'd held her just-stepped-out-of-a-Pantene-commercial-and-and-i nto-a-wind-machine chesnut waves back while she bent over a toilet.

"Please," she scoffs at me, tossing those glossy waves back and rolling her eyes. "Takes a lot more than this to get me sick."

A new song begins pumping through the giant speakers set up a few feet away and Adrian jerks upright and says, "This is my song. Come on, Sage!" And somehow she's gracefully taken her drink from my hand, deposited it somewhere, grabbed my wrist and is dragging me toward the sound before I can even protest.

"You shouldn't just leave your drink," I warn, looking behind me to see if I can even locate it.

"Meh," she shrugs. "Done for the night anyway."

"I'll hold you to that," I smile at her.

"What?" she yells back, apparently not having heard me over the music we're now right on top of.

I lean in and press my lips to her ear. "I said, I'll hold you to that."

She shakes her head at me playfully, then grips my hips and pulls my body up against hers. I roll my eyes and loosely place my hands on her bare shoulders as she starts to effortlessly twist and grind and her body to the music. Contrary to what most people would think just by looking at me, I'm a pretty good dancer myself, but I don't really feel like it right now. I'm content just to hold on to Adrian and let her have her fun. She deserves it, especially after the disastrous run-in she'd had with her father last week. He was in town on business and Adrian, who had been doing particularly well in her classes as of late, was excited to see him and inform him of her improvements. Things didn't exactly...go well. To put it lightly. Adrian's dad was kind of awful. He didn't understand her. Not many people did. Everyone just sort of casts her off as that sort of girl. A wild one who drinks and parties and sleeps around. Though I'd never partake in those things myself, I didn't see anything wrong with any of those activities, as long as she was doing them safely and kept the drinking and smoking in moderation. The latter is what she seemed to have the most trouble with. I worried for, but I also knew things about her that no one else did. Like, how smart she really is. And an incredibly talented artist. And the very best friend I have ever had.

People didn't understand me, either, for the record. My own father being at the top of the list. It was one of the first things Adrian and I had found ourselves bonding over.

"Are you trying to bring The Robot back or what?" I hear her deep, musical voice tease. She reaches up to grab my shoulders and shakes me. "Loosen up!"

I laugh. "Sorry, I was just thinking."

"Well, stop." she says, turning me around so my back is pressed up against her front. Her hands are around my waist again and she guides my body rhythmically against hers. "I know those little hips of yours have moves. Don't hold out on me."

I sigh exasperatedly and try to get a feel for the music that's playing. After a few moments I have the beat in my head and am able to move my body smoothly in time with it. But my heart's not really in it. This place is too hot and too crowded. I know Adrian just wanted to let loose tonight, but I'd much rather just be doing this alone in our dorm room. Although, that would be a rather strange thing to do.

"What's the matter?" she whispers, giving my sides a squeeze.

I shake my head. I don't want to bring her down. I don't know what's up with me tonight.

I'm about to turn around to give her a reassuring smile when a looming shadow passes over us and I look up to see a random guy standing a few inches from us.

His eyes drink in the sight of Adrian in all her glory and he gives her a flourescent smile. "You know something's not right when the hottest girl at the party is dancing by herself."

Adrian returns his smile brightly and lets go of my waist. I suddenly feel off-kilter, the spots on my body where her hands were a second ago are now tingling and cold.

I turn to see her hands are now placed firmly on Random Guy's chest and a strange pang goes through me. I don't know why I'm so offended, I don't really have any right to be aside from the fact that she's my friend and I think she could do better, but she doesn't really care about that sort of thing. She's told me on numerous occassions these guys she parties with meaning virtually nothing to her. She just likes to hook up, it's fun, or at least that's what she tells me. I can't really imagine that sort of lifestyle for myself, but maybe if I was as gorgeous and silver-tongued as Adrian I'd feel differently. The power to get anything or anyone you want must be quite thrilling.

But just as I'm about to quietly slip away from the scene, I hear Adrian shout over the music, "I'm not dancing by myself. Or can you just not see the hot blonde in front of me?" And she shoves him away. The guy laughs at first, like he thinks she's joking.

"I was too busy looking at you, sweetheart." He grins, then flicks his gaze to me. "But your friend is welcome to join us. A little too skinny for my tastes, but I can make an exception just this once."

My mouth almost drops at his words. Who does this guy think he is? I'm filled up with rage, but any comeback I may have gets stuck in my throat.

Luckily, Adrian never has that problem. She whips her head around and fixes him with a gaze so cold his smile disappears instantly and he looks a little bit scared.

"Listen you entitled asshole, no one fucking asked you to come over here. So why don't you just go peddle your pathetic excuse for seduction skills on that lamp over there, seeing as that's the only thing you've got a chance of getting with in this house."

A few people nearby overhear her and erupt into raucous laughter. Random Guy's cheeks flush with embarrassment. I can't help the smile that's crept its way onto my face. She turns her back on him, leaving him to finally stumble away with his tail between his legs.

"Prick," she mutters, putting her hands on my waist again. "Are you okay?"

I shrug. Although that guy's behavior certainly offended me as a woman, on a personal level I couldn't care less. "I don't really care what some random person at a party thinks of me. Especially someone like that guy."

"He's an idiot," she snarls. I don't know why she's getting so angry.

"Are you okay?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

She puffs out a heavy sigh and nods. "I'm just so sick of men. I think I'm done with them."

"I've heard that one before," I laugh. "And they're not all bad, you know."

As if on cue, our friend Eddie is beside us, seemingly out of thin air. "Was that guy bothering you?" His shoulders are tensed, like he's ready to fight.

"Exhibit A!" I smile, giving Eddie a pat on the shoulder. He eyes me questioningly.

"I was just telling Adrian she shouldn't give up on the male gender, there are some good ones out there."

He smiles and shakes his head at me. Then looks at Adrian with concern. "Did he hurt you?"

"Oh my God," she scoffs. "No! He was just being a dick and I rightfully put him in his place. I can take care of myself, Castile."

Eddie puts his hands up and laughs. "Hey, more power to you. I just saw what was happening and thought I'd come over."

"Your concern is appreciated," I tell Eddie. "How's your night going?"

I feel Adrian's grip on my waist tighten and I wonder if the alcohol is hitting her now and if I should prepare myself for our inevitable trip to the bathroom.

Eddie shrugs. "Alright. This party's kind of lame."

"I'll say," Adrian grumbles, though she was singing an entirely different tune about 20 minutes ago. I tell her as much and she pouts at me.

"I was having fun," she replies. I can tell she's slipping into one of her dark moods.

"Do you want to dance with me?" I offer, trying to keep her upbeat.

She tilts her head down and looks at me coyly through her long, dark eyelashes. For a moment, my breath catches. She really is stunningly beautiful.

"Always," she murmurs in answer to my question and pulls me in tight.

Eddie clears his throat, suddenly looking a little uncomfortable. "I'll, uh...I'll see you guys around, I'm gonna so say hi to um...yeah." He stammers awkwardly before taking his leave.

"What was up with that?" I ask, watching Eddie as he leaves.

"He couldn't handle the mind numbing effects of our combined sexiness," Adrian smiles and I snort.

"Yeah, definitely."

"I'm serious!" she giggles. "I'm having a hard time keeping it together myself, you should wear skinny jeans more often."

I know she's joking but I still find myself blushing at the compliment.

We fall back into our rhythm, our bodies moving against each other naturally, and I really start to get into it. It's much better once I close my eyes and just pretend it's Adrian and me alone. I let my head fall back against her shoulder and her hands find mine, interlocking our fingers as we move. I feel kind of special, knowing that she could quite literally have her pick of anyone here, yet she chooses me.  
It's funny. When I first met Adrian I'd thought having her as my roommate had been more or less a death sentence. I could tell within the first few minutes of our meeting that she was a wild sort of girl, and it scared me. Sometimes, it still does, a little bit. But I think it's more the effect that she has on me that frightens me these days, I can't tell if it's a good thing or a bad thing yet. I feel immense pleasure when her hands leave mine and travel back to my waist, squeezing softly. There's a spark that flows between us whenever we touch. We're so different and so alike at the same time. But it's in her company I feel the most safe, the most understood.

I turn my head and my nose grazes up against her cheek. She turns her head so that our foreheads touch. My eyes flutter open to find her dazzling emerald eyes staring straight into mine. She once told me during one of our intense make-over sessions (which is a broad term for Adrian forcing me to play her real-life Barbie doll) that my eyes were beautiful, like molten gold, she had said. But I think hers put mine to shame.

Still, I smile at the memory and she gives me a curious look. "What are you smiling about?" Our faces are so close, I can feel her breath on my neck.

I open my mouth to reply when the music abruptly cuts out, snapping us both to attention. "Cops!" Someone shouts. "We've got cops! Everybody out!"

Adrian squeals and grabs my hand, darting toward the door a mass of people are now flooding out of. Once outside, she kicks off her heels and picks them up with one hand, grabbing for mine again with the other. And we run. Even though Adrian is 21 and I haven't had anything alcoholic to drink, we take off into the night like mad fugitives, screaming and laughing all the way back to our dorm room.

"I hope Eddie got out okay," I gasp as we collapse into her bunk, breathing heavily.

"I'm sure he's fine," she wheezes, and it sounds painful.

"All those cigarettes certainly do wonders for your respiratory system, huh?" I tease.

"Oh, shut up!" she pants, laughing. "I don't want to hear it, Sage. I thought we agreed not to comment on each other's shit after The Incident."

Over the course of our friendship, we've had loads of arguments, but The Incident refers to our one and only big fight. Adrian had brought up my...issues with food. She claimed I had a problem, that I needed to start eating more and gain some weight. We laugh about it now. But at the time it had been very serious and ended in tears on both our parts. We didn't talk for weeks afterward.

"Am I really too skinny?" the words leave my mouth before I can think better of them.

The laughter dies in her throat. She turns over on her side to face me. "No," she says after awhile. "You have an amazing body. I've told you this."

"You also told me I needed to gain weight," I remind her, turning to face her as well. "And then that guy tonight..."

Her expression darkens. "Seriously? Fuck that guy. Do not let what he said get to you. He was a complete idiot."

I cast my eyes downward and sigh.

"Sydney," she says, reaching forward to cup my face and force me to look at her. She shakes her head in disbelief. "You really have no idea how beautiful you are, do you?"

When I don't reply, she scoffs. "Of course you don't. You wouldn't, would you? You're the smartest person I know, yet you never see what's right in front of you."

The look in her eyes is faraway and almost dreamy, and my heart leaps into my throat. I'm suddenly hyper-aware of everthing. The closeness of our bodies, the apple-y scent of her hair mixed with the spicy scent of her perfume makes her smell like Christmas.

Some of that wild, dark, sweet apple smelling hair tumbles into her face and without thinking I reach to push it back behind her ear. My hand lingers there for a moment, unsure of what to do. My heart thuds frantically in my chest as all these unfamiliar, frightening sensations stir inside me. There's something about the way she's looking at me that makes me want to bolt up and run out of the room. But instead I find myself sidling closer to her, letting my arm wrap around her in a loose embrace.

"You're the beautiful one," I finally say. She makes a gagging face.

"Really," I say. "And I don't just mean you're pretty. Everyone knows you're gorgeous. But I know you're so much more than that."

"I'm not, though." she says quietly. "You're just seeing what you want to see."

"No I'm not and we both know it," I argue firecely. "Anyone who can't see how amazing you really are is blind, or they're just not looking hard enough."

"Jeez, Sage." she chuckles after a moment, "Remind me to come to you next time I need a pick-me-up."

I'm suddenly embarrassed by my outburst of emotion. I draw back from her, the confused and restless feeling still swirling in my chest.

She sighs and rolls out of bed. "I need to get out of this thing," she announces, unzipping her dress and letting it fall into a heap on the floor. She kicks it to the side and saunters to her dresser, rifling through the top drawer presumably for something to sleep in. I feel a bit odd, watching her stand there in her underwear. I envy her boldness, but if I had the perfect slim waist and soft curves in all the right places, I probably wouldn't have many qualms about stripping in front of anyone either.

I force myself to avert my gaze and quickly undo my jeans and peel them off. I'm aching to get up and place them in my hamper, but if I get out of bed in nothing but a tank top and underwear, Adrian will never let me live it down. I opt for folding them up and setting them down next to the edge of the bed.

Moments later, the light flicks off and Adrian is bounding into bed next to me, clad in a dark red silky nightgown. All I can think is, she would.

"Cuddle tonight?" she asks, throwing her arms around my waist and squeezing.

I nod, rolling over to return the embrace. "Sure."

We snuggle in silence, for awhile, until I find myself asking, "Did you really mean it when you said you were done with men?"

Her laughter lights up the dark room. "Yes!" she exclaims loudly. "Forever."

Adrian's always been pretty fluid with her sexuality. In the time I've known her she's gone through just as many girls as boys. It's never bothered me. I mean, despite what most people assume due to my religious upbringing, I don't have a problem with homosexuality. Or bisexuality. Or whatever. Adrian didn't really identify herself as anything, as far as I knew. It was an unsettling thought. Didn't you have to be something? Maybe she didn't know what she was yet. Lots of people experiment in college, right? I mean that's a normal thing people do, right? I've never given much thought to it before, but now it's all that's on my mind.

"I've never been in love with a boy," she surprises me by saying. "I mean, I've crushed really hard on guys, sure. But the only times I ever thought I might be, you know...in love, it was with a girl."

"Hmm," my throat clenches, the confused and restless feeling returning to me tenfold.

"Hmmm?" she teases, nuzzling my shoulder. "What made you ask that, anyway?"

I shake my head, rolling so my back is to her. Maybe if I just don't look at her, the feeling will go away.

"Oh, come on." she urges, snuggling up behind me. "What's going on in that brilliant mind of yours?"

"You don't want to know," I sigh, burying my face into a pillow. I'm so embarrassed and I have no idea why. I feel like she can read my thoughts and that makes me want to curl up into a ball and disappear.

"Yes, I do." she says softly, right into my ear and it makes my heart twitch. "Sage?" there's a note of concern in her voice. "What's going on?" Her hand moves down to stroke my hip and when her fingers graze my bare skin I flinch.

"Stop that!" I hiss, my heart kicking into double time.

"Why?" I can't see her face but I can tell she's frowning. "Are you mad at me?"

"No," I say automatically. "Of course not. I just...I'm...I...don't know...what I am."

A few seconds of silence tick by before she responds. "What do you mean?"

This can't be happening. Not to me, of all people. I mean, I'm just...I never thought...I can't be...

"I'm freaking out a little bit," I finally say. Adrian grabs me by the shoulders and pulls me so I'm laying flat on my back. She props up on one elbow, leaning over me.

"What's wrong?" Her lovely face is etched in worry and confusion. Even in the darkness her flawless pale skin just seems to glow. I want to reach out and touch her. Her lips are so full and I need to know if they're as soft as they look.

"I just really want to kiss you." I blurt out and to my surprise, the world doesn't end. Instead, Adrian laughs and scrunches her eyebrows together.

"Is that all?" She asks. She leans down and plants a soft kiss on my lips. "There. Now that's settled."

Not really. My lips are tingling like they've just woken up. And they're hungry. "I..." I trail off, not knowing what to say. "I barely even felt that."

She laughs again, throwing me an offended look. "Are you dissing my skills, Sage?"

"Nevermind," I say, shaking my head, my cheeks hot with humiliation. "Just forget I ever said anything."

I move to get out of her bed and migrate to my own but as soon as I'm in a sitting position Adrian's lips crash into mine again. Hard, this time. I melt into it, amazed at how warm and soft it feels. One of us moves closer and the kiss deepens, her hands are cupping my face while my fingers weave into her dark hair. I let go of everything, all the confusion and doubt and fear inside me, and lose myself in the taste of her. I let myself fall back onto the bed and Adrian moves with me, hovering over me, our mouths still fiercely pressed together. Finally, when she breaks away, she flashes me a wicked smile.

"Did you feel that?"

I pull her toward me in response and she falls forward, her weight pressing against me. My skin ignites where hers touches, and I sigh into her mouth. I can feel her heart beating hard and fast, just like mine.

"Oh, Sage," she murmurs, kissing a path from my lips to my ear. "What took you so long?"

"Took me so long to wha-oh," I gasp as she moves her mouth to my neck, kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin there.

"I knew you'd have to stop resisting me eventually," she whispers into my skin. "But I must say, I was starting to worry."

I'm shocked by her words. Does she mean she could tell what I was thinking all this time? Even before I really knew I was thinking it? The notion fills me with a flicker of shame, then is quickly replaced by an overwhelming sense of joy. I don't really know where it's coming from. It just feels really good to be this close to Adrian. It feels right.

My joy dissipates into anxiety as Adrian moves from my neck to my shoulder, pushing aside the material of my tank top to kiss me there.

"Adrian," I whisper in panic.

She stops. "What?"

"What are you doing?"

"Kissing you," she murmurs, bringing her lips to my ear again. "Isn't it obvious?"

"I don't know what I'm doing," I tell her honestly. "I've never...not even with..."

"I know," she says.

"I'm scared."

"Hey," she wraps her arms around me. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"I do want to," I whisper, "That's what's scaring me."

"There's nothing to be scared of," she says, moving in to kiss me on the lips softly. She brushes some hair out of my face and I lean eagerly into her touch. "I'd never do anything to hurt you, you know."

"I know that," I say, brazenly leaning forward with newfound abandon and kissing her. "I trust you more than anyone else in the world."

She smiles at that. "In that case, allow me to show you a few things." She leans in for another kiss. It's like we can't stop. Our mouths are magnets, rushing back to each other every time we pull them apart.

"Like what?" I ask, smiling. She lays me back down on the bed and moves her hands underneath my shirt. My eyelids flutter closed and I let her pull it over my head. I open my eyes and she's lifting her nightgown over hers and then slowly our clothing disappears until there's nothing but soft, smooth skin between us. Her hands explore my body and she tells me I'm so beautiful, so perfect. I can't believe that's true, but the way she looks at me makes me feel like maybe it could be. My hands are more tentative, not exactly knowing where and how to touch. I'm marveled by her raw, natural beauty. I want to kiss every part of her. I want to make her feel as good as she's making me feel. With her mouth all over my bare skin, her fingers soft and teasing and gentle.

"I don't really know how..." I whisper to her, moving my hand uncertainly to touch her in the same way.

"You don't have to," she whispers back, showering sweet, affectionate kisses on my face.

"I want to make you feel good."

"You are," she says, smiling. "This is the happiest I think I've ever been."

"Really?" I find that surprising, for some reason. I mean, I'm just me. Just Sydney.

She nestles her body against mine and nods. She looks up at me almost shyly. "I was talking about you, you know."

"What do you mean?" I ask, reaching to push back some of her now damp with sweat hair.

"When I said the only times I've ever been in love have been with girls," she says, a faint blush rising to her elegantly sculpted cheeks. "I was talking about you."

My breath catches and I stare at her, wide-eyed.

"There's no one who understands me like you do," she says. "Even though you've never tried to change me, you make me so much better just by being around. You make me feel like I can be more than just what everyone else sees me as. And I...I just love you so much, Sydney."

I think my heart stops. How can this be happening? I mean, this is Adrian. Adrian! My best friend. She can't be in love with me. And I can't...

You're the smartest person I know, yet you never see what's right in front of you.

Her words come rushing back to me and suddenly it's like a gear in my brain has finally clicked into place. Yes, this is Adrian. My Adrian. It's always been her, all this time, I was just too blind to see what was right in front of me.

I don't know what to say, so I just kiss her, hoping that it's enough.

And hours later when we're falling asleep in each other's arms, coated in sweat and panting with satisfaction, I bring my face close to hers. And when I look into her eyes, I am no longer afraid. "I love you, too."


	5. Clarity

**Random Sydrian Drabble: Sydney and Adrian are moving into their new apartment when Sydney stumbles across something unexpected. I consider anything under 1k words a drabble tbh. So in my book this is a drabble. How many times can I write the word drabble? Drabble. **

* * *

Sydney's breath caught. "Adrian..."

He turned, eyebrows raised, then laughed slightly. "Oh. Those."

"When did you paint these?" she breathed, "They're..." She struggled to find the words. "Wow." She finally settled on, lamely.

Adrian made a face. "They're something else, I suppose." He seemed embarrassed. "It was awhile ago."

"What was the inspiration?" she asked timidly. There was such a stark wildness to the paintings that unsettled her. The vibrant colors ripped against the soft pastels like open, bleeding wounds. The rawness of it scraped against her insides. It was beautiful, but somehow almost painful. She realized, then, this was probably the most emotional reaction she'd ever had to modern artwork. But that was probably more of a credit to Adrian's talent than her ability to judge art.

"I was having a bad night," Adrian said, coming up behind her and placing his hands on her hips as she continued to stare. "It was like I could just feel the Spirit scratching away my brain. That's when I usually start to drink."

Sydney turned to him then, concern tugging at her heart. "When was this, exactly?" She set the painting down gingerly where she'd found it. "You know you're supposed to call me when that happens. It doesn't matter where I am or what I'm doing, I'll-"

"Chill, Sage," Adrian drawled, placing a soft kiss to the side of her head. "This was months ago. You weren't exactly at my disposal as much back then."

Sydney frowned. "You should have called me," she insisted, nudging his shoulder with her forehead.

"Anyway," Adrian pressed on. "I was so angry." He laughed slightly, shaking his head. "I remember that. I was pissed off and going crazy and I didn't want to fucking get drunk so I just grabbed some random supplies and started painting. It was certainly an experience."

"So that's why these are so...wild looking?" Sydney asked, a small smirk forming at the corner of her mouth. "Because you were in the throes of Spirit? That's..." she looked back toward the paintings, "Interesting."

"Well, I wasn't really trying to make anything good. I just wanted to calm myself down, focus on something else." Adrian just shrugged. "Some artists purposely ingest hallucinogenic drugs before painting, to see what sort of wild things they'll create." He rolled his eyes. "But I've got a leg up on the competition, I'm naturally crazy."

"Oh, stop." Sydney elbowed him. Today was a happy day and she wanted to keep him in good spirits. She forced herself to widen her smile. "Regardless of the circumstances they were created in, I think they're beautiful." Her smile turned wry. "And who is she supposed to be?" Sydney gestured to the painting that appeared to be a woman's face. Long, harsh strokes of red and black slashed across the canvas, though the expression was startlingly serene amidst the darkness that swirled violently around her. "Your muse?"

Adrian laughed, wrapping his arms around Sydney's waist and squeezing. He turned to whisper in her ear, "You could say that."

It took Sydney a moment to realize his meaning. She startled in his embrace, her head whipping back and forth from the painting to Adrian a few times. "That's...supposed to be...me?"

"Well, duh." Adrian scoffed. "Who the hell else would it be?"

"I..." Sydney stammered, a ridiculous blush creeping up her cheeks. "I just didn't realize..." She took a closer look at the first painting, which depicted two eyes. Upon even closer inspection she now saw that the irises, centered in the swirling vortex of colors, were definitely gold. Of course. She bit her lip, embarrassed. "I guess I see it now."

"I guess you could say it's sort of a metaphor," Adrian murmured against her skin. "Your face, your eyes, in the middle of all that chaos. Like I said, while I was painting these all I was thinking about was calming myself down, making myself feel better. So, sometimes, when I get like that, I just picture your face in my mind. Calm and lovely. It helps me stay, you know...here. Grounded. Sane."

A warm rush of emotion enveloped Sydney, and in her fervor, she twisted in Adrian's grip so she could kiss him full on the mouth. "You keep me sane too," she whispered against his lips. "I may not have the artistic ability to be able to express it, but-"

"Oh, I don't know about that," Adrian smirked, running a finger down her spine. "Some of the things you do in the bedroom could be considered works of art."

Sydney scoffed loudly.

"I'm serious," Adrian said, his voice low and teasing. "You're like the Da Vinci of sex. Very...uh...inventive."

"Is that so?" Sydney asked, running her hand down his chest. "What does that make you? My Mona Lisa?" Her hand sank lower, grazing his abdomen. She felt his breath hitch. Her hand continued its descent. She dropped her voice low. Her fingertips slid under the waistband of his jeans. "Vitruvian...Man?"

Adrian's eyes fell closed, his head falling forward to touch hers. "Only you could make titles of artwork sound so sexy," he rasped.

"Let's take a break from unpacking," Sydney said, breaking away from Adrian. She grabbed his hand and began leading him toward the bedroom.

Adrian chuckled, letting her drag him. "Not that I'm doubting your genius," he said once they reached their destination, "but how exactly do you plan to make this work? We haven't even set up the bed yet."

Sydney placed her hands firmly against his shoulders and shoved him up against the bare wall. She smirked at his bewilderment, leaning in to kiss him hard. "I'm feeling rather inventive."


	6. Cataglottism

**Prompt: Cataglottism **- Kissing with tongue

* * *

"I have a theory," she said, looking up at me in that shy, underneath-the-lashes way that drove me crazy. I didn't even think she she realized how sexy she looked when she did it, which just made it all that much worse.

"I'm listening." I told her with a grin.

She bit her lip. "I can't…it's too embarrassing to say." She was blushing now. Her fair skin illuminated in a flushed pink. Oh, this was going to be good.

"What could be so embarrassing that you couldn't tell me?" I raised a curious eyebrow. "Cold fusion?"

She shook her head at me, trying to mask her amusement as annoyance Then, without warning, she slid herself onto my lap, hooking one of her legs over mine, so she was straddling me. My hands went to her waist automatically. She leaned in to plant a soft kiss just under my ear. My eyes fell closed. Her mouth lingered there for a few moments, then I felt the warm, wet touch of her tongue as it swiped against my earlobe. My pulse quickened. I bit back a groan. Her mouth traveled slowly down my jaw, half kissing, half licking until her lips hovered over my own. My grip on her waist tightened.

"What are you doing?" I murmured, breathless, just as her lips grazed against mine.

"Putting theory into practice," she whispered. And she pressed her lips to mine, her mouth warm and open. I leaned into the kiss eagerly and—oh. _Oh._ That was what she was up to. That was what she couldn't bring herself to say out loud. I would have laughed, the fact that she could be so sexy and so _adorable_ at the same time never failed to amuse me, but my mouth was a bit full at the moment. I tried to restrain myself, hold still while her tongue explored my mouth in a way that made me ache from the inside out. She pulled away for a brief moment, then immediately pressed her mouth back to mine, harder this time. Much harder. My self control unraveled. I was always bit wary of accidentally nicking her with my fangs when we kissed, especially when things got heated. But she hardly seemed to care about that right now. With a growl, I moved my hands up to cup her face, returning the fierce intensity of her kiss. The room around me faded away, as it so often did when Sydney and I kissed. All I was aware of was the warm pressure of her mouth, the sweet, electric sensation of her tongue as it slid against mine. The weight of her on top of me, pressing into me. Then, abruptly, she pulled away. I blinked a few times, dazed.

"So, what do you think?" she finally asked, somehow managing to sound demure though her breathing was just as ragged as mine.

"Results are inconclusive," I told her with the same astute air to my voice. "Theory requires more practice."


	7. Precipice

**this little scene was inspired by my love for late night tom foolery and snuggle talk, and this passage from The Fiery Heart:**

_"I had never thought I could love another person this much. I also never thought I'd live in such fear of losing another person. Was this how everyone in love felt? Did they all cling tightly to their beloved and wake up terrified in the middle of the night, afraid of being alone? Was that an inevitable way of life when you loved so deeply? Or was it just those of us who walked on a precipice who lived in such panic?"_

* * *

I was still shaking by the time I arrived at Adrian's apartment complex. I was fully awake now but the awful visions still clung to my mind, wouldn't let go, wouldn't wash away, not until I'd seen him, wrapped my arms around him, buried my face into his chest and breathed him in. My teeth chattered as I made my way to his door, in my frenzy I hadn't even had the good sense to grab a jacket before I'd slipped out of my dorm room and into the night. It didn't occur to me, until I'd reached the door, my hand around the knob, that I'd forgotten my key. My hands immediately went to my pockets, only to remember that I was still wearing sleep shorts and a tank top. Still half crazed, I made a fist and rapped swiftly on the door. The sudden sound awakened something in me. I stilled. Blinked, as if coming out of a trance. What was I doing here? _Being ridiculous_. My cheeks burned even though there was no one around to witness my humiliation. If I just turned back now, no one would be the wiser. _I should do that then_, I decided numbly. Go back to the car and drive back to Amberwood and climb back up to Julia and Kristin's room and sneak back to mine. Except I'd already promised my friends that I would be gone until morning, and couldn't bear the thought of waking them up again after I'd already done it once tonight. Maybe I could just spend the night in the car, find another way back in-

My thoughts were cut short as the door to Adrian's apartment swung open. He startled when he saw me, standing in front of him, shivering in my pajamas. I'm sure I looked certifiably insane. But that didn't matter, I knew quite confidently it didn't, because this was Adrian. My Adrian. He wouldn't mind me being insane. He'd take me in any sort of state.

"Sydney?" He blinked his eyes a few times, as if to clear his vision. "What's going on?" Concern cut through his confusion.

I launched myself into his arms without another thought. Doing all those things I'd fantasized about on the ride over. The arm-wrapping, the head burying, the deep breathing. He was here. Solid, warm, and real. His arms went around me a moment later, squeezing me back just as tightly. He drew me inside his apartment, shutting the door behind us.

"What's wrong?" he asked. When I didn't reply, he stiffened. "_Sydney_." He made no effort to break from my vice like grip, but his voice was stern. "Sydney, tell me."

Now that I was here, I realized just how embarrassing this whole thing truly was. I pulled away from him, burying my face in my hands. "Oh, God." I mumbled.

I felt his hands wrap around my shoulders. "What's happened? You have to tell me." There was clear panic in his voice now, which only deepened my shame. I shook my head, too embarrassed to look at him.

"Nothing!" I whispered quickly. "Nothing, nothing happened. Nothing's wrong." My voice was tight, suddenly.

"Something, obviously." He rubbed his hands down my arms. "You're shivering."

I looked up at him, reluctantly. "I'm sorry," I shook my head. "I don't know what I'm doing. I wasn't even thinking. I was so upset and I...I just...I just...came here." A small, slightly hysterical laugh escaped me.

Adrian just stared at me and I wondered if I had overestimated his tolerance for insanity.

"Why were you upset?" He asked softly, still running his hands up and down my bare arms.

"It's stupid, it's so stupid." I groaned. "God, I can't believe I actually _came here_." It wasn't like me to be so impulsive, so irrational. I hadn't even thought of the consequences.

He raised his eyebrows, still waiting for an explanation. The terror that had chained itself around me and refused to let go was now an almost distant memory. I sighed heavily, "I had a bad dream."

For a moment, he said nothing. Then he laughed. My cheeks flushed hot again and I tried to wrench away from him, but he was already pulling me back into his arms, rubbing my back consolingly. "Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, still chuckling.

"Don't make fun of me." I whined, though I deserved to be made fun of.

"I'm not," he said. "I'm not." He kissed the top of my head. "Nightmares are no joke. But you didn't have to come all the way here. I can protect you from bad dreams, you know."

I shook my head. "You shouldn't use spirit on such frivolous things," I reminded him. "Plus, I..." I paused, still embarrassed. "I couldn't just call you. I needed to see you. Touch you. For real."

I expected him to laugh again but he just squeezed me tighter. "I'm here," he said softly, the warmth of his breath tingling on my skin. "I'm right here."

I shivered against him, and this time it had nothing to do with my fear or the temperature. But when he asked if I was cold, I simply nodded, and his next suggestion was exactly what I'd hoped it would be. "You want to come to bed?"

**#**

Wrapped up in Adrian's bed sheets in the dark was as thrilling as I'd often imagined it to be. Adrian slipped off the jeans he'd thrown on to answer the door, now clad only in his boxers. I'd never seen this much of him exposed before. I marveled at the sight, the way the moonlight glinted off his pale skin, the way his muscles moved as he climbed into the bed with me.

"You think..." he said, his voice low, "that you can just show up here, in the middle of the night, come to my bed, dressed like _that_..." I blushed, knowing full well just how absurd my behavior was. I couldn't tell if he was teasing or if he was actually mad at me. I had woken him up, after all. For nothing. "And then..." he continued, a crooked smirk appearing on his face, "expect me to keep my hands to myself?"

"Oh," this time I blushed for a different reason. I smiled, scooting my body closer to his. "I don't expect that at all."

He pulled me flush against him. The warmth of his bare skin against mine set me on fire. His mouth soon followed suit, pressing up against mine, hard. I returned the kiss just as fervently. No matter how long it had been since we'd seen each other, we always kissed like this. Desperately. My hands roamed his body freely, fascinated by the feel of him. Smooth, immaculate skin stretched over lean, taut muscles. The fire inside me crackled and sparked. Our bodies moved restlessly against each other. His hands were tangled in my hair. We kissed and kissed, breathing hard into each other's mouths. Finally, his hands started to wander, stroking down my back, to my hips, my bare thighs.

"Is this what you always wear to bed?" His voice was rough in my ear.

"Usually," I said.

He groaned, his fingers played at the hem of my tank top. "God, that's so hot."

I giggled. "You should see what's underneath." My breathless voice came out hoarse and suggestive.

He made a strangled noise, slid his hands underneath my shirt. His fingers on my bare stomach made my eyelids flutter closed. He grazed his fingertips over the material of my bra delicately. I leaned into the touch, my fingers digging into his back.

He chuckled as his mouth made its way back to mine. "You should have bad dreams more often," he said against my lips. As silly as it was, even the mention of the dream made me stiffen in his arms. He drew back slightly, reaching to brush my hair away from my face. "Are you okay?"

"I just get so scared sometimes," I surprised myself by confessing. I'd come so far in my time here, with Adrian, and everyone else. I'm not that same girl that was pulled from her bed by her disapproving father all those months ago. That girl was a weakling, a slave to her superiors, never questioning, only doing what was expected of her. I was different now. Strong. Capable. Unafraid. But there were moments where I felt myself crumbling inside, terrified. More scared than I had ever been in my life. I didn't realize until after I was finished I'd said all of that out loud.

Adrian's demeanor shifted immediately. The fiery passion in his eyes had dulled to warm affection. He pulled me in close to him. "Sydney," his voice was gentle. "Why haven't you told me any of this?"

"I don't want you to see me that way," The honesty continued to pour out of me. "You're always going on about how strong I am, how my strength inspires you to stay strong. And I am, I am strong. I know that now. But sometimes I..." I shook my head, "I just don't want to break in front of you. I don't want to disappoint you like that."

"First of all," he said as soon as I'd finished talking, "You've always been strong, Sydney. I can't think of many people who would be able to take the constant stress you're under with the immeasurable amount of grace that you do. No matter what hits you, you just get right back up from it and say, _alright, what's next?_ It's incredible, to be honest. It never fails to blow my mind. And everyone, even the strongest people, have moments of weakness, of fear. There's no shame in that. You could never_ disappoint_ me. I mean if you're going to break in front of anyone, I would certainly hope it's me. Jesus, Sydney, I'm your boyfriend. That's what I'm here for."

My heart tightened at his words. "Adrian..."

He sighed in frustration. "This is all my fault. If I wasn't such a damn mess you wouldn't have to feel like you need to be strong all the time. I'm your boyfriend," he said for the second time. "I'm supposed to take care of you, just like you take care of me."

"You do," I assured him adamantly. "We take care of each other."

"You say that," he continued, shaking his head. "But you have to admit here lately it's been pretty one sided. And I'm sorry for that. I know more than anyone else how strong and capable you are, but that doesn't mean you don't need someone to be there for you. And I'm here, Sydney. You have to realize that. I'm here for _you_. Always."

"That's what I'm afraid of," I said barely above a whisper. "That's what's been keeping me up at night, making me do crazy things like break into your apartment at 2 in the morning. I'm afraid that someday you won't be. I'm afraid, Adrian, I'm afraid of losing you."

He was silent for a long moment. Then he said, very quietly, "Sage..."

It was odd, I thought, how I used to thrill when he actually called me by my first name. It felt so informal and sort of dirty. Then, as we grew closer, that became our standard. And now whenever I hear my last name, his first name for me, on his lips, it's like an unexpected gift. I can taste the sound of it, familiar and sweet. Sage. His Sage.

"Of all the things to be afraid of," he whispered, his hands moving to cup my face. I felt his thumbs stroke lovingly across my cheeks. "You choose the most impossible, the most ridiculous-" He broke off suddenly, leaning in to kiss my mouth. "You could be afraid of cold, scheming alchemists, or evil witches, or-" he broke off again, chuckling. "But no, you're afraid of losing me, huh?"

"It's not funny," I frowned.

"It's a little funny," he insisted.

I shook my head. "Do you have any idea what it would do to me if I lost you? Talk about breaking...I'd fall apart, Adrian. I love you so much, I never thought it was possible for me to love someone as much as I love you. If anything happened to you, I'd...I don't know...I don't even know what I would do. How is that funny?"

His amused smile fell. His eyebrows knit together as he studied me, a look of disbelief passing over his face. "You're really serious?" he seemed amazed, for some reason. "I wasn't...it's not that you being scared is funny...just the thought of someone being afraid to lose _me,_" he stumbled over his explanation, like the words were somehow foreign to him. "I've never...I've never really meant that much to anyone, I guess." He was sill gazing at me with that strange, astonished expression.

"You really don't get it," I sighed, leaning in to kiss him softly. "You mean everything to me."

He let out a sharp breath. "Sage," he said again. When more words seemed to fail him, he kissed me.

"Is this normal?" I breathed against his lips. "To feel so unhinged all the time? Sometimes it's wonderful. Sometimes it's awful. Sometimes I feel like I'm losing my mind. Is this what love always feels like?"

He leaned back so he could look into my eyes, snatching one of my hands in his and bringing it to his mouth to kiss. "No," he finally said. "This definitely isn't normal."

My eyes widened. "No?" Maybe I really was crazy.

"I've never been in love like this before, either." He told me, lacing my fingers in his and holding our threaded hands up so he could look at them. "I don't think it's normal, to be in love like we are. It's something special. Something rare. Maybe it's just my own insufferable narcissism, to think that _our _love is on some other plane of existence, but that's what it feels like."

"Yes," I agreed softly.

He turned to look at me, smiling. "Yes that's how it feels? Or yes I'm an insufferable narcissist?"

I smiled back, stroking his thumb with my own. "What do you think?"

His expression turned severe again. "I know how scary it is, trust me, I'm terrified half the time myself. But I believe that we can make it. No matter what life throws at us, you know?"

"Because our love is so epic and special?" I teased, snuggling closer to him.

"Exactly," he said. "And because, above everything else, I believe in you. And I know you believe in me." When I didn't say anything he added a hesitant, "Don't you?"

"Yes," I said, turning to look him in his beautiful, piercing eyes. "I do."

"You'll always be my warrior goddess," he said with a soft smile, looking at me in a way that made me feel as if I was, as he has once said, indeed both of those things. "Even when you're at your most frightened, your weakest, crying or ranting or even losing your mind. You know that, right?"

I closed my eyes for a moment, taking in his words as they etched themselves into my heart, then opened them. "And you'll always be my..." I searched for the right words to describe what Adrian was to me, though nothing in my expansive vocabulary seemed to suffice. "My Adrian. No matter what."

He smiled. "Good. Now that that's settled," he turned his body so we were facing each other, side by side. "Do you feel better?"

I nodded. "You always make me feel better."

"Do you promise to start telling me when you feel like this again?" He asked softly, his hands moving to my waist again.

"Yes," I told him. "But something tells me I won't be feeling it again any time soon."

"Too bad," he murmured, teasing. He ran his hands up my sides, making me sigh. "I could get used to these late night visits."

"Out of the question," I said, though it pained me. "Way too risky."

"But," I said in reply to his pouting."That doesn't mean we can't make the most out of this one."

"Mm," he said, our bodies now pressed close again, exactly as they should be. "I like the way you think." And then he kissed me. And kissed me. And I knew with an unwavering certainty that it didn't make me weak to love someone so completely and helplessly, it only made me stronger. And for a blissful while I stopped worrying about what the future held. For at the moment, Adrian was here, with me, and there was nothing to be afraid of.


	8. Better

It all happened very suddenly. Well, I suppose I'd felt a little off when I woke up that morning, but I chalked it up to just every day general weirdness, and went on getting ready for school. Then, without warning in the middle of first period, I felt a bit dizzy. The spell hit me hard and my head tumbled forward, I only regained control just before I would have cracked my forehead against my desk. I blinked a few times, steadying myself, and tried to shake off the heavy, strange feeling. It wouldn't go away. I tried to focus on taking notes in spite of it, but as the minutes ticked by the feeling only intensified. Accompanied now with a tingling soreness in my arms and legs. I looked up and winced. The light was too bright, suddenly. It stung. I blinked again, the dizzy feeling returning tenfold. I took a deep, quiet breath and amazingly held myself together until the bell rang. My head was pounding, the noises of students scuffling about in the hallways like nails on a chalkboard. Something was wrong. Instinctively, I started to stumble toward Ms. Terwilliger's classroom, only to find it vacant upon arrival. I leaned against the locked door, wheezing a shaky breath. I closed my eyes for a long moment, feeling incredibly weak. Sounds began to blur together, I sagged against the door, my body felt so heavy.

"Sydney?" The sound of my name startled me out of my near comatose state. I looked up to see Kristin standing in front of me, her face etched in concern. "Are you alright?"

"I..." I was surprised to learn my throat was dry. I tried to clear it but that seemed to just make it worse. Involuntarily, I coughed.

"You don't look so good. Here." She moved in to wrap an arm around my shoulder and started walking.

"I feel..." I managed to croak out in spite of the sharp pain it caused me, "really weird."

"Did you pull an all-nighter or something?" Kristin asked as we walked. "You look like you haven't slept in a day or two."

I shook my head. I'd gone to bed the same time as always. I felt Kristin's hand smack against my forehead. "Ow," I grumbled.

"My God," she gushed. "You're burning up."

"That's impossible," I said, "It's freezing in here."

"Uh, no it's not." she snorted. "Alright, here we go." I felt her weight shift as she opened a door and dragged me inside.

I looked around at my pale blue surroundings. I'd never been in this room before, but the fat leather couch shoved against the wall looked incredibly inviting. Kristin plopped me down on it and I toppled over, letting my head rest against the cool material. Ugh, it was even colder in here. I wrapped my arms around myself.

"What's the problem here?" I heard a woman's voice ask.

"I'm not entirely sure," that was Kristin. "She's kind of...out of it. And I think she's got a fever."

I heard the shuffling of feet and a moment later felt my hair being pushed away from my face. Something cold stuck in my ear. I jerked. A loud beep sounded.

"Oh my," the woman's voice was troubled now. "One hundred and three."

It took me a few moments to realize she'd just taken my temperature. I sat up abruptly. "What?"

Bad idea in retrospect. The world spun around me and I swayed in my seat, Kristin rushing to brace me before I face planted.

"What are your symptoms?" the woman asked me. She took my face in her hands, tilting my head to either side as if to check for imperfections. I was confused. Symptoms? I didn't have any...except for this weird dizziness, and a bit of a sore throat, and a headache, and I was inexplicably cold.

Oh.

Oh, no.

I shivered out of her grasp and moaned audibly, my head falling into my hands. I coughed again. Kristin patted my back soothingly.

"This girl needs to get to a doctor," the woman said sharply.

"No," I shook my head, my voice like gravel in my throat. "No. No. I'm fine."

"Nonsense," was her reply. "Name, please."

"Sydney Melrose," Kristin answered for me.

I heard the loud, obnoxious sounds of typing. "Hm." she said, "No parents' numbers on file, I see."

"My parents don't live in the area," I croaked. "I-"

"The only emergency contact I see is unnamed." She read out the digits to me and my chest flipped. Oh, God.

"That's..." I coughed. "That's my older brother's number." Now I felt like I was going to throw up.

There was silence after that and my curiosity outweighed the heaviness of my head and I lifted it to see the woman with a phone pressed up against her ear.

"Hello," she finally spoke into the receiver. "Is this Mr. Melrose I'm speaking with?"

_Oh, God. _I couldn't hold back my laughter. Thankfully it just came out like a harsh cough.

"Yes, well, this is the nurse at Amberwood Preparatory school calling. I've got your sister, Sydney, in my office right now. I believe she's quite ill, she's currently got a fever of one hundred and three. She'll need to be taken to a doctor."

This just kept getting worse. The last thing I needed was him freaking out over this. I didn't understand why everyone kept saying I had a fever. I didn't feel hot at all. On the contrary, I was still freezing. I needed to figure out how I was going to weasel my way out of seeing a doctor. That was a complication I didn't need on top of everything else. Adrian had to be in his own class right now, there was no way he'd be any help in removing me from this situation. If only I could have found Ms. T before Kristin found me.

Suddenly I was being held upright again, the long corded phone was being held out to me. "Your brother would like to speak to you," the nurse said.

Kristin helped me over to the desk and held the phone up to my ear. "I'm f-" Another coughing fit took hold of me. Tiny razors danced in my throat. I sighed heavily, and even that hurt. "I'm fine," I rasped, my voice straining to even produce a whisper. Dizzy and weak from the long trip from couch to desk, I slumped back against Kristin.

"Right, yes of course." The nurse was saying into the phone now as Kristin helped me back to the couch. "Thank you, Mr. Melrose. Goodbye."

The nurse turned to me, attempting to give me what appeared to be a comforting smile. "Your brother will be here shortly, dear. He said something about a special family doctor?"

I was too thrown to answer. He was coming here. To the school. Great. The extra time with him would have been a blessing, aside from the fact that I felt like my bones were melting.

Kristin leaned over me and whispered, "They're a _very_ religious family."

I almost snorted.

Kristin patted my back again. "Do you want me to stay until your brother gets here?"

I shook my head. "You don't have to do that," I said, or gave my very best attempt to say.

"You should get to class, miss." The nurse told Kristin. "You've been a great help, but your friend will be alright."

Kristin looked reluctant, but eventually did as she was told. I gave her a grateful smile as she left, and then curled up again on the couch, closing my eyes. I just wanted to sleep for a few minutes. Or hours. Or days.

**#**

The door opened. I heard voices. I winced, just wanting to sleep. Scratching of paper. Then I felt myself being lifted. Panic gripped me and my eyes flew open.

"Whoa," Adrian said, setting me down on the ground. "It's just me."

I tried to stop myself from going all gooey right there in the nurse's office. He looked so handsome, as always, with his messy hair and untucked button down shirt. I could have kissed him, but that probably would have given the poor nurse a heart attack. Though I had to admit, it would have been kind of funny. I hoped that was the so-called fever talking. I swayed where I stood but Adrian's arm was already secure around my waist, keeping me from falling.

"Easy there, _little sister_." His mouth twitched upward as he spoke. "Let's not add concussion to the list of ailments."

"You didn't have to come," I said, my voice nearly gone completely now. "I know you were in class."

"Oh, sis. Ever the martyr. Your health is much more important." He threw a glance to the nurse. "She's as selfless as she is lovely." He was enjoying this. Of course he was enjoying this. I shouldn't have expected anything less.

The nurse cleared her throat awkwardly. "Yes, well. You'll have to sign her out here." She handed Adrian a clipboard. "And we'll need a written excuse from your physician upon her return."

"No problem," Adrian said easily. That was, in fact, a bit of a problem. But I'd get it sorted it out. Just as soon as the room stopped spinning and I had a working voicebox again.

"Feel better," the nurse called half-heartedly as Adrian led me away. As soon as we were outside he removed his arm from around me and I stumbled.

"Sage!" Adrian's voice held a note of urgency as he caught me. "Jesus, you really are sick."

"Obviously," I sniffed loudly.

"I thought you just wanted to play hooky with me," Adrian smirked. "I was all geared up for a steamy roadside make out session."

"Something's wrong," I told him as we made our way to his car. "I don't know what..."

His hand came up to touch my forehead. "You're hot. Not that that's anything new. But maybe we really should take you to a doctor."

I shook my head adamantly. "I just want to lay down for a little bit, please." My voice sounded uncharacteristically helpless, but that was precisely how I felt at the moment. Adrian's grip around my waist tightened.

"Okay," he said softly. "You can take a nap at my place."

**#**

I was dying. I was certain of it. My throat was on fire. I couldn't breathe. My whole body ached. I shivered even though I was covered in all the blankets Adrian could find. I thought once I'd rested for a little bit I'd be good as new but the more time passed the worse I felt.

Adrian placed a cold washcloth against my forehead. I shook my head feebly. I was already too cold.

"I've got to try to bring your fever down," Adrian said. "It would be much simpler if you'd just let me-"

"No." I didn't care how much it hurt to talk. "No spirit. Don't you dare."

He sighed. "You're lucky you're so cute and sick right now, otherwise I'd be pissed."

"It's just a cold or...something." I said. "Hardly something worth wasting your energy on." I coughed violently for a moment. Then sighed. "It hurts."

"What hurts?" he murmured, bringing the washcloth down to my neck.

"Everything," I whined.

He made a low, comforting noise and reached up to brush my hair back from my face. "Aw, _dragă __mea_."

I lifted my head up. "What?"

He chuckled. "Tatiana used to say that to me when I was little and in a particularly dark mood, or had hurt myself, or something. She'd scoop my up like this," he gathered me into his arms and squeezed. "And mutter sweet things in Romanian. It just seemed fitting."

I smiled up at him. "Do you know what it means?"

"My dear or my darling," he said, planting a kiss on the top of my head. "My love, things like that. Depends on who you say it to, and in what context, et cetera."

"I never knew you could speak Romanian."

"I can't, just a few little phrases." He titled my head up so he could kiss my mouth. "_Te iubesc_."

I blushed. I knew what that meant. "Same to you," I said, nuzzling my face into his shirt.

"Does your throat still hurt?" he asked after a few moments of silent cuddling. I nodded.

He pulled away from me, grabbing for my hands and bringing them to his lips. "I'll make you some soup."

I burrowed restlessly under the covers, too weak and tired to object. I sniffed. "Okay."

**#**

"Nothing too fancy," Adrian said as he entered the bedroom, holding a tray with a bowl perched on top of it. "But the warm liquid and salt will help your throat." He set the tray down on the bed on top of me and moved to help me sit up.

"You're good at this," I murmured affectionately. He leaned in to give me a kiss on the cheek.

"I like this," he said, pushing me forward so he could sit behind me on the bed. "Not you being sick. But, you know, taking care of you. Makes me feel useful, for a change."

I leaned back against him. "You're useful for a lot of things."

"Eat your soup," he commanded with another kiss. I took a few tentative sips. It hurt to swallow, but the warmth was soothing.

Adrian's hands were on my shoulders, massaging lightly as I continued to eat.

"Mm," my eyes fluttered closed. "Remind me to get sick more often."

"Come to think of it," Adrian said, "Do you ever even get sick?"

I shook my head. "No. That's why this is so weird. The tatt-_oh_." My body went rigid in realization.

"What?" Adrian asked, "What's wrong?"

"Ugh," I smacked my forehead. "Damn it."

"Sydney?"

I sighed. "The tattoo. One of the 'perks'...the Moroi blood... it was like a constant boost to the immune system. Sometimes when alchemists go awhile without getting their tattoo touched up, they'll get a nasty virus. Their body isn't used to having to fend for itself."

"And since your tattoo is broken..." Adrian was starting to put the puzzle together.

"No wonder I'm dying," I coughed for good measure. "I probably won't last through the night."

"Don't even joke about that," Adrian chastised, giving me a hard squeeze. "I'm sure Jackie can help, magic herbal witchy tea or something."

"If Zoe finds out I left school sick..." My eyes widened. "She'll know something's wrong. I got re-inked right before I came to Palm Springs. If she tells my father or Stanton-"

"Hey," Adrian said softly, his hands falling to my waist. "Calm down. Stressing yourself out is just going to make you feel worse."

"But Adrian-"

"Shh," he said, "Stop it. No freaking out allowed. Just lay back and eat your soup that I slaved over."

"This is from a can," I argued.

"I poured my heart and soul into that soup," he insisted dramatically.

I took a long slurp and wrinkled my nose. "A little less soul, next time."

"Too spicy for you?" He teased, placing not-so-delicate kiss on my neck. Even in my weakened state, it zipped through me like lightning. My head fell to the side almost on command, giving him more room.

"Stop," I whined, to him and to myself. "I'm sick."

"I'm sorry," he murmured against my skin, his actions contradicting his words as he continued to kiss a trail up to my ear.

I made a hoarse noise of protest. He climbed out of the bed, leaning over to give me another quick kiss on the head. "I'm going to call Jackie and see what she has to say about this. Just rest, please."

I rolled my eyes, though I had to admit, it was nice to feel so secure in the fact that when I couldn't properly take care of myself, Adrian was ready to do it for me. I laid back and tried to relax, careful not to knock over the soup tray. I must have dozed off for awhile because the next thing I knew the feather light touch of Adrian's knuckles against my cheek was waking me up. "Mmm," I said in response.

"Hey, sleeping beauty." He told me he managed to get ahold of Ms. Terwilliger, who apparently wasn't at school that day, and informed me she was now making me something to speed up my recovery.

"I was just joking about the witch tea, but I guess that's like a real thing." Adrian laughed.

I reached for his hand, my love for him swelling in the moment. "Thank you," I said.

"Anything for my _little sister_," he winked.

I groaned. "I'm going to vomit in your bed."

"I'd prefer that you didn't, but if that's what you need to do, you'll have to sit in it until I get back."

That got my attention. "You're leaving?"

"Just to go get your magic juice," he said. "I'll be right back."

I sat up, rubbing my eyes. "What time is it? And where did my soup go?"

He chuckled, still stroking the side of my face. "It's almost eleven. The soup got cold. I'll make you some more when I get back, if you want."

"Okay," I sniffed.

"Are you feeling any better?"

I lifted my hand and wiggled it in a so-so gesture. I didn't feel better, at all, really.

"I wish you'd let me help," Adrian's voice was near desolate. "I don't like seeing you in pain. I could at least take some of that away."

"I _am_ letting you help," I argued. "You're doing everything a normal boyfriend would do."

"But I'm not normal," he said. "Sometimes my abnormalness comes in handy, it'd be nice to put it to good use."

I grabbed for his hand again, moving it from my cheek to my lips so I could kiss his fingers. "But this is enough. I don't need you to magically make me all better. It's amazing that you can, and it's nice that you're offering, but I just need you."

"I love you, Adrian." I added softly. "I'm not normal, either, you know."

Finally, he said, "must be why we're so perfect for each other."

"Yeah, that must be it."

"I'll be back soon, go back to sleep." He leaned in to give me a goodbye kiss, full on the mouth. I was a little surprised he had no qualms about affection when I was so sick. Though my contagion held little to no threat to his strong Moroi immune system, I was still pretty gross. Sniffling and wheezing and hacking up phlegm and what not. Adrian seemed like the type to shy away from the aforementioned things. I reflected on this as I watched him leave the room, before I finally fell into another bout of fitful, sickly sleep.

**#**

It was official. I no longer had any fear of Hell. I was in it right now. Heat lapped at my body from all sides. I squirmed uncomfortably, blinking my eyes open. Ugh. With great effort I managed to kick off all the blankets, having to peel the last one off of my sweat coated body. I groaned loudly. My clothes and hair were sticking to my skin in the most abhorrent way possible. Great. Now I'd need to shower before I went back to Amberwood. And to wash my clothes.

"Sage?" Adrian's head appeared through the door. "You alright?"

"Weren't you leaving?" I asked. Oh, that hurt. It was if my throat had swollen completely shut while I slept.

He chuckled. "I've been back for awhile. But I didn't want to wake you. I heard you making noises, though."

"I'm so hot," I moaned, hooking a finger into the neck of my blouse and trying to fan some air onto myself.

"Generally, yeah." Adrian agreed. He came over to me, pushing my damp hair away from my face. "Oh, the fever broke. Good."

I pouted. "I can't live like this. I feel _disgusting_."

"Hold that thought," Adrian said, disappearing from the room again. He was back a few minutes later, holding a large red and white thermos. "Jackie said it'll take a couple hours to kick in. I'm going to go ahead and warn you, it smells _rank_, but I assume the results will be worth it." He set the thermos on the nightstand next to the bed.

"But first," he added, reaching for the strip of material slung over his shoulder than I hadn't noticed until then. He unfolded it, revealing a dark blue t-shirt. "Let's get you out of that and into this."

I remained still as Adrian unbuttoned my school blouse. The cool air hitting my skin as he slid it down my shoulders made me sigh.

"Let's not make this sexier than it already is," Adrian teased. I raised my arms dutifully while he slipped his shirt over my head, the soft, dry cotton a pleasant welcome in comparison to my sweat-soaked blouse. The shirt was long enough for me to slide my skirt off without showing more of myself than I particularly wanted to. I waited for Adrian to make another inappropriate comment but he simply gathered up my discarded clothes in silence.

"I'll go put these in the wash."

"That can wait," I said, reaching my arms out to him. He smirked, falling on to the bed beside me, wrapping me up in his arms. My bare legs twined with his. Things were finally starting to look up, today.

"Hi," I nuzzled my face into his neck.

"Hi," he kissed the side of my head.

"I'm wearing your shirt." I teased.

"Yeah, I know."

"I like it," I said.

His voice was low, "I like it, too."

We laid in silence for awhile, just enjoying the feel of being pressed closed to each other.

Finally, he reached over me to the nightstand. "Here, you need to start drinking this before it gets cold again."

He unscrewed the lid of the thermos poured some of the tea into it. It was very dark, looked a bit like swamp water. The smell hit my nose and I cringed.

"I told you," he laughed. "Just try to sip a little bit at a time." He brought the lid to my lips. I took a small, experimental sip. "Hmm." I took a larger sip.

"Well?" Adrian prompted.

"It doesn't really taste like anything," I said.

Adrian grinned. "Well, thank God for small miracles." I finished the contents of the lid fairly quickly. It burned my throat going down, but I assumed that meant it was working. Adrian refastened it to the thermos and set it back on the table.

"You know," he said, pulling me back into his arms. "On the way back from Jackie's I was thinking, you know...about how...I wouldn't want to do this with anyone else."

"I would certainly hope not," I gave him a teasing smile. "I might get just a little bit jealous."

He laughed. "I'm being serious, though. Like, I don't really know if I can put into words what I'm trying to say." He paused, his brows knitting together. "It just sort of hit me how real this is, you know? What I feel for you. What we have together. Like I don't just want to do fun stuff like make out and eat fondue or whatever. I want to take care of you, when you need me to...and...you know...stuff." He scoffed. "When did I get so bad at this?"

"No," I assured him, my cheeks thoroughly flushed. "I know what you mean. I want all of that, too. But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"Yes," he said. "I'm sort of used to that, though. People taking pity on me, wanting to help me because I'm so pathetic."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know," he said, looking directly into my eyes. "I know. It's just...what I'm trying to say is, everything's different with you. I knew that from the beginning, but, it becomes clearer to me every day. That we're made for each other."

The words made my breath catch. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought the same thing to myself on more than one occasion, but hearing Adrian say it out loud sparked something within me. I smiled, snuggling in closer to him.

"Was that too cheesy?" He asked, laughing slightly. "It sounded better in my head."

I shook my head. "I liked the way it sounded."

His lips pressed against my forehead for a long moment. I lost myself in the sensation of our closeness, I lived for these moments where the universe seemed to click into place around us, and it felt like we were one singular entity rather than two separate people. "Feeling any better?" he whispered.

"Yes," I whispered back, "Much."


	9. The Lucky Ones

**I was supposed to publish this on Halloween but it took forever to edit yeah yeah the usual stuff. SO! Something weird and wacky for Halloween, except I'm like two days late. There is a part two to this, and if people are really into it I might post the second half eventually. And if not, well then we'll always have this weird AU that I wrote for spooky sydrian Halloween fun times. So, without further adieu: sydrian ****zombie apocalypse! AU/AH**

**Trigger Warnings: mentions of suicide, death, general zombie gore? is that a trigger? better to be safe than sorry. And I think that's it.**

* * *

_I still remember when the news broke about the super vaccine. Everyone was calling it a miracle. The greatest medical breakthrough in history. No longer fear the common cold, no more pesky influenza, live a longer life, seemed like a pretty sweet deal. And the best part, there was no catch. No icky side effects. Of course there were skeptics, as there always are, but the allure of prolonging human life for as long as possible won over in the end. Soon celebrities were endorsing it on their twitter accounts, showing off their bruised arms on instagram. Political officials were allegedly getting it too. I remember the first child to get the shot. He was a little boy, around 7 or 8, with a goofy gap-toothed smile. His face was plastered all over the place. The poster child for a brighter future. I remember screaming at my father over the phone, my throat thick with tears as I begged him not to force the shot on my little sister. He'd already had one himself, as had I, but my sister was frightened, for whatever reason. Seems so silly to be frightened of such a good thing, right? But she didn't want it. And it was her choice. I told him that over and over. I don't know if he listened. We did not speak after that. Then, it happened. They didn't even make the connection at first, to the vaccine. Thought it was a random act of insanity, or hardcore drugs, after all, what could possess a human being to do such a thing? They called it an isolated incident. They called it that for as long as they could. Until it happened again and again and again. People were dying from the vaccine. And then...becoming something else. Then, people started to panic. Once they realized what was happening. What we'd done to ourselves. And people raged. Accused the government of conspiracy, cried genocide. Demanded a cure. But there was nothing to be done. The upside? The vaccine didn't turn everyone who'd received it into an Infected. No one knows why. In some people, for some reason, it laid dormant. They told us, one of the last press conferences on the matter, if you'd already had the shot and were currently still Uninfected then congratulations, you were a lucky one. But contact with an Infected such as a deep scratch...a bite, anything that left you with an open wound...that was an equal opportunist employer. Suddenly, the world was on fire and burning fast. My mind was one track. I had to get back home. I sent a small, silent prayer up to whoever might be listening, and set off to find my family. I had no way of knowing if my father had been 'lucky' like me, no way of knowing if my little sister had been spared from the vaccine. My mother...had she given in and taken it too? Were any of them still alive...still...human? I didn't know. But I had to find out. _

* * *

Blood. So much of it. It is everywhere. I traveled on foot to get here. Hiding. Walking. Hiding. Not eating. Walking. Not sleeping. Killing anything that looked like it might want to kill me. The human body should not be able to function on any more than two weeks without sleep. But here I stand. Wide awake. In my parents' house. And I am alone. Alone with all the blood.

I don't think, _they could still be alive_. Or, _this could be someone else's blood_. Or, _they probably made it out and are safe, somewhere_. Because by now I've seen too many things. Terrible, awful, nightmarish things. And every day things just get worse. So no, I don't think happy thoughts. I think: I am so, so,so tired.

I think, _if they're dead, then I don't want to live._

* * *

I wake up I don't know how much later, moonlight pouring in through the broken windows, sore all over from sleeping on hardwood floor. I have no idea how much time has passed, but I don't feel tired anymore. I am still alive, I guess.

I walk into my father's den and I don't feel anything at all. I won't allow it. This is not my father's den. This is just a room. A room in a house I've never been in before. I somehow have the strength to balance my foot on the edge of the desk and yank open the top locked drawer. The gun is exactly where I knew it would be. Untouched and fully loaded. I do not let myself think about what that means. A dizzy spell hits me and I fall to the ground. I stay there for a long time. I don't know why I'm still here, but I guess there must be a reason for it. Whatever that reason may be, it is enough to make me stand up. And keep walking.

The gun digs into my hip with every step that I take. I don't mind it. The pain keeps me awake. I haven't had to use it yet. One or two of them I can handle with the steel baseball bat I've been carrying for so long I don't remember what it feels like to not have it attached to my right hand. Guns are loud. They draw attention. It's for emergencies only. I don't know, yet, what will constitute as an 'emergency'. I don't know where I'm going or how long I can keep doing this.

I thought I would have run into other people by now. Maybe I am last person on earth. Ironic, considering I've been waiting ever so patiently to die ever since...well it must have been more than a week ago that I found nothing but blood and a gun in the house I grew up in. It feels like yesterday, it feels like years, it feels like it never happened at all. Have I slept since then? Maybe I died right there on the hardwood floor and this is hell. I ponder this atop the long deserted gas station counter, as I bite into another stale miniature muffin. If I am the last Uninfected person on earth, maybe I should pull out the gun and unload it straight into my brain. Get the job done. Let them reap the earth. Instead, I finish my bag of muffins and walk out into the daylight, my head tilted toward the unforgiving sky, as if to say: _come and get me._

* * *

There's a house in the distance. A nice, big house. Isolated and perched atop a small hill. My mouth practically waters at the thought of finding a secluded hiding spot to sleep in once I get there.

It's getting dark. I'm getting tired again. I also worry I might slowly be losing my mind. I keep seeing things, hearing things, sensing things. Things that I know are not there. Like my mother's voice. A shadow in the shape of my sister. The smell of my father's cologne. My own thoughts feel like they don't belong to me. The gun digs into my hip in an almost inviting way. I let it tether me to reality. I've lost everyone, everything. I cannot bear to lose my mind. I would quite literally rather die.

I am a human slug by the time I reach the top of the hill. My legs are seconds away from buckling underneath me. It's so dark that I don't see it before it's too late. It grabs me by the ankle and knocks me to the ground, face-first. The bat skitters far out of my grasp. On pure instinct, I twist myself around, and immediately regret it. Its putrid, rotted, snarling mouth is inches from my face. _The gun_, I think, _reach for the gun_. But I just stare, frozen in morbid fascination at this twisted creature -once human- now unspeakable soulless, brainless monster. And I see in its clouded, yellowed eyes...true death. And I think, for the first time in a long time: _I do not want to die_.

Too late, I realize at it lunges for my throat, bloody maw snapping like a rabid animal. I push back against its shoulders with my bare hands, at last ditch attempt at survival. Its hands claw at my face, purple black fingernails scrape down my cheek. In the last seconds of my time in this world, I do not find sudden clarity or peace. I see no light at the end of the tunnel. All I see is this horrible, ugly, painful truth. But I won't close my eyes. Why bother? Might as well see this thing out until the bitter end.

A sharp, metallic sound rips through the air. The head of my assailant flies off to the side, its body slumps hard against me. The weight lifts a moment later, replaced by a new one. And a new pair of eyes bore into mine. Not clouded. Piercing. Not yellowed. Green. Not dead. Wild. Alive.

A hand grazes my face and my body finally decides to move, flinching violently from the touch.

"Whoa," a deep voice accompanies the eyes. "Whoa, it's okay. You're okay."

No it's not. No I'm not.

"No skin broken," it..._he_ says, hand still stroking my face. He. It's a man. A human man. I feel his fingers against my neck, pulling my shirt down. "No bite marks, either. It's your lucky day."

So it is.

He pulls away from me and I sit up, blinking. Dazed. Like I've just woken up.

He offers me his hand. I reach for my bat. The gun presses awkwardly against my pelvis. Once I've got the bat in my hand again, I feel like I can properly deal with this situation. I shakily make it to my feet. The man stands in front of me, towering a good four or five inches above my head.

I look down to see he's holding a bloodied machete. It finally registers, then, that he just saved my life.

"Thank you," I say. My voice is hoarse. For some reason, I think of the last time I spoke to my father, right before any of this happened. It was not a pleasant conversation. My throat closes shut.

The man smiles, for some reason, and I worry momentarily if he is insane. A second later his smile disappears. "Shit," he hisses.

"Wh-what?"

He brings his arm up into a defensive position, the machete glinting in the moonlight. "We've got company."

That's when I hear the growling. I turn and sure enough, five of them have appeared seemingly out of nowhere. I draw my bat behind my head, ready to swing.

"Uh," the man says, sounding uncertain, "Should we-"

The first one comes charging at me and I crack my bat as hard as I can into the side of its head. It drops. I think of my parents. I think of how this thing might have been someone's mother or father. It's so dark and its flesh is so rotted I can't even tell which it might hypothetically have been. My eyes sting.

Two more are in its wake, ready to avenge their fallen comrade, or probably just to rip the flesh from our bones and feast on it. The man swings the machete with all the grace of a child throwing a temper tantrum. But it works. Slices the head clean off. I smash my bat into the third's face. It takes a couple more hits for this one to go down. I think of my sisters. What if they're out there...somewhere...like this? If one of these things had the face of my baby sister would I be able to smash in its skull? In theory, I think, well of course. I would have to. It wouldn't be my baby sister anymore. But the thought of some other person out there, some living person, doing it for me, not stopping to think about whose baby sister she used to be, seizes me with the uncontrollable urge to vomit. My vision blurs with hot, useless tears.

I hear the now familiar sound of the machete hacking through flesh and another one drops. Four down, one to go.

This one is slower, limping toward me. I take a few calm, determined steps forward, meeting it halfway. The sudden clarity and peace I thought I'd been cheated out of in my near death experience fills me up without warning. I think I even smile. When the bat connects, it slams right into its jaw, twisting the head clean around. And drop. I give it another swift blow to the back of the head. That ought to do it. Remove the head or damage the brain. That's the motto. I take a deep breath. I think of me. Myself. I am still alive and I don't know why but I am glad. I do not want my life to end this way, to become one of these things. I wipe my eyes.

"Come on," the man says, grabbing my free hand with his and pulling me inside the house.

It's even darker inside which is considerably less safe than where we just were but I'm a little too distracted by the warmth of his hand in mine to say anything. It's been so long since I've touched another living, breathing human being. I remember sitting on a cold countertop, eating stale food and wondering if I was the last person on earth. That seems so absurd now. So childish. How could I have thought that I was the only person left alive? How could I have considered ending my life right then and there? When there were people still out there, like this man. Fighting back.

He stops and removes his hand from mine. I hear a door open. He takes my hand again and starts leading my down...down? Oh god, not a basement. What good is that going to do? This isn't a damn tornado. We'll be like cornered rats down here. The door above my head clangs shut ominously.

Suddenly, bright fluorescent lights flicker on. The room we stand in is vast, spreading out the size of three normal sized bedrooms. The walls and ceiling appear to be made of some sort of steel. My gaze flicks to the man. In the bright light I am startled by his appearance. Not only is he much younger than I thought, he's also really good looking. Seems a bit ridiculous to notice such a thing, but when all I've had to look at is bloody, mangled flesh-eating monsters, I have to admit, it's quite a pleasant surprise. Dark, messy hair and pale, flawless skin. Eyes as green as emeralds. Like a storybook prince. Even more incredible than all that, he's so..._clean_. Well, his clothes are stained and blood spattered. But his skin is remarkably dirt and blood free. He's even clean shaven. I realize I'm staring.

He smiles again. "See anything you like?"

My face flushes. "Sorry," I mutter, looking away. "What is this place?"

"Panic room, I'm guessing." He says, gesturing to the space we occupy. "I sent a letter to the previous owners, thanking them for being such paranoid weirdos, but something tells me I'm not going to be hearing back from them any time soon."

"That's not funny," I snap without thinking. He may have just saved my life but how he can he joke about something like this? People are dying. The world is ending.

He frowns. "I'm sorry. You're right. You'll have to excuse me, it's been awhile since I've had any human contact."

That, I can understand.

"So this isn't your house, then." I say, trying to make sense of everything. "How long have you been staying here?"

"I've lost track of time," he says in a voice so grave it sounds like a completely different person than the one who was making an incredibly inappropriate joke a few seconds earlier. He looks at me, almost child-like. "Do you know what month it is?"

"It's June," I say. I've made it a point to keep track of time as best as I can. "Mid June."

His whole face darkens and I can see this news has upset him. "Wow," he finally says.

"How old are you?" I ask, suddenly very curious.

"Twenty-two," he answers. "And you?"

"Nineteen," I reply.

A moment of silence passes between us. Then he says, "Your turn."

My mouth twitches slightly. "How are you so clean?" is my next burning question.

He chuckles at that. "Oh, well this place is stocked with all your D-Day survival needs. That includes soap and toothpaste and shampoo and the like. And there's a small bathroom there in the corner." He points behind me. "The toilet and shower are fully functioning."

"I know!" he says when my eyes widen in shock. "I have no idea how it works. But I'm not one to look a gift bathroom in the mouth, you know."

Working toilet and shower? I wonder what I have to do to get him to let me use them. At this point, not much is out of the question. I haven't showered in...I don't even want to think about it.

"My turn," he says, "What's your name?"

"Sage," I say and I don't know why. It just fell out of my mouth. My family's name. My name. "Sydney," I add awkwardly. "Sydney Sage."

"Sage," he says it like he's testing it out on his tongue, "I like it."

"My name's Adrian," he offers it up without me having to ask.

"Adrian," I say, "Thank you, again, for saving my life."

He shrugs. "Don't mention it. Are you okay, by the way? That was a close call. I'd still be freaked if I were you."

"I'm fine," I say. It's ridiculous, of course. I am nowhere near fine.

Adrian, to his credit, doesn't look convinced. Maybe he's not as obliviously shallow as he seems.

"I know it must be scary, getting separated from your group or whatever, but I think you should hang tight for awhile before you go looking for them or anything."

He might as well be speaking a foreign language. "What?" I ask. "What do you mean?"

He stares at me, unblinking. "Well I'm assuming you drew the short straw out of all your buddies and that's why you came up here, to see if the house was squattable or if there were any weapons, food, whatever."

I shake my head slowly. "There are no buddies." I say, "It's just me."

His eyes widen in shock. "You're all by yourself?"

I nod. I don't know why he's so surprised. He's all by himself. We all are, these days.

"How long have you been on your own?"

"Since it happened" I say, making my voice sound matter of fact. "I was at school. Everyone was in a panic. They were trying to round everyone up to find somewhere to hide for the foreseeable future. But I was trying to get back to my family. So that's what I did." I realize how stupid I must sound. A little thing like me going off by herself. And how pathetic I must look. Standing here now. With no family.

He just gives me a curt nod and doesn't press for any more information, for which I am infinitely grateful.

"Adrian," I say, his name still a strange, uncomfortably new sound in my mouth. He looks to me, eyebrows raised. "Look I know you've already done a lot for me, more than I could ever ask of a complete stranger but..." I clear my throat. "Well, would you mind if I um...used your shower?" I gesture to myself. "I'm kind of disgusting."

"Oh," he says, "Of course. I should have thought of that, sorry. Here." He walks over to a wall and pulls out a draw I didn't even realize was there. This room is something out of a science fiction novel. Then again, so are a lot of things these days. Out of it he scoops what appears to be a bar of soap, a tiny bottle of shampoo, and a towel. He hands them to me with a flourish. "Make yourself at home."

"Thank you," I breathe, still unable to believe I'm really about to take a shower. I bite my lip. "You um...you wouldn't happen to have any razors would you?"

"Oh, yeah. Duh." He reaches back into the drawer and pulls out a tiny plastic disposable razor. I could cry. I know it's the end of humanity as we know it and body hair is really not a top notch concern but, Lord, it's _hot_ outside. And I haven't been able to shave in months. The extra hair just makes me sweatier and stickier than necessary. If this is the only shred of normalcy I can hold on to, I will take it.

"Oh, do you need one of these...things?" Adrian furrows his brow, pulling out a small wrapped thing. I squint. A tampon. _Oh my God_. "I never know when girls needs these things. I mean I get it's a monthly event, but the whole ordeal seems kind of unpredictable."

I stare at him, incredulous. Who on earth is this man? I can't believe, in the midst of all that's happened, I am holding in a laugh. "Not at the moment," I tell him. "But I appreciate the offer."

He smirks. "Well, should your situation change, you know where to find them."

"Good to know," I nod, accepting the razor from him and disappearing into the tiny bathroom before this can get any more ridiculous.

The first thing I do is take off my shirt and bra and hand wash them with soap in the sink. There's no mirror, which is a good thing. I do not want to see what I look like right now. I squeeze out as much excess water as possible and lay them out, hopefully they'll be at least fifty percent dry by the time I'm done cleaning myself. My jeans will just have to make do as they are. I gave up on my underwear a long time ago. I went as long as I possibly could, but after about a week it was just too much. I've been commando ever since.

I step into the shower, water scalding. The blood and the dirt run red-brown down the drain. I cry the whole time. Not because I'm sad. Or happy. It's just raw emotion, pouring out of me.

"I was with people," is the first thing Adrian says to me when I emerge, still toweling my hair off. He's sitting on his bed, staring at the wall.

"I'm not the kind of guy who survives this sort of shit, you know?" He gives a harsh laugh. "I'm not a superhero. I'm not even a regular hero. I'm just a lucky son of a bitch who somehow managed to have a slew of badasses for friends." He looks at me, startling. "Oh, hey. You clean up nice." He smiles, but it's not like the cheeky ones from before. As inappropriate as I found those smiles, I'd much prefer them to this one. It's too sad. Too forced. It looks like it hurts.

"Thank you," I say, and I'm not just talking about the compliment. I think he knows that.

"So my friends and I, we found this place. We'd take turns going out and scavenging for things this place didn't already have or things we were running low on. Gathering weapons and food. That sort of thing. And we were safe here, for awhile." He's back to staring at the wall.

"What happened?" I ask quietly.

He sighs heavily. "We lost someone."

I'm not sure if that's the end of it, but then he continues, "She's like my little sister. I was supposed to look out for her. And I was good at it. Looking out for her. Until I wasn't."

He pauses again and my heart aches for him. I know his pain too well.

"So, anyway, in case you were wondering why I'm just holed up here by myself, that's why. My friends went to go look for her, and if they couldn't find her, go on out West. A more permanent living situation. I'm sure you've heard about the safe havens that are being erected?"

"Sure," I say, even though I hadn't heard of anything like that. It makes sense though. And explains why I haven't run into any living people before tonight. For just one tiny second, I think..._maybe_. Then I remember what the house looked like. The broken windows. All that blood. My heart squeezes painfully.

"And I stayed here," he says dismally, drawing me out of my selfish melancholy thoughts. "I was afraid that she might come back here, looking for us, so someone had to be here to wait for her. Just in case, you know."

You'd think my own experiences would have bled me of this kind of sympathy, but I simply don't have the heart to tell him that his little sister is never coming back. She's dead. My little sister is dead. Everyone's little sister is dead.

He gives me a rueful look. "Pretty pathetic, huh?"

I shrug. I think he's made a mistake, not going with his friends. But if he had gone, I'd be dead right now. So...there's that.

Finally, I say, "You did save my life. I think that counts for at least regular hero status."

He smiles at that, a real one.

Then he says, "Just out of curiosity, what's your status?"

My eyes squint in confusion. "Status?"

"You know, are you pure?"

"_Pure_?" I raise my eyebrows. Is he asking what I think he's asking?

He laughs. "God you really have been on your own this whole time. You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

I shake my head dumbly.

He sighs, "Pure is what we call the people who never took the vaccine."

"Oh," I say, frowning. "No, I'm not 'pure', then."

His eyebrows raise in such an incredulous way it makes uncomfortable. "A Lucky One, then." He gives a low whistle. "Interesting."

Odd. What does it matter? You're either human or not. What's the point of classifying ourselves? I ask him this and he makes a face.

"It doesn't. Usually. Most people don't really give a shit. It's just the crazies you need to watch out for."

"The crazies?" I'm learning all kinds of new vocabulary today.

"Some Pures are a little um...extreme." He says, wincing. "They only want to associate with other Pures. They blame the people like you for taking the vaccine, for unleashing this shitstorm on the world."

"That's ridiculous," I exclaim, "How can people even tell the difference?"

"They can't. I told you, it's just a few scattered groups of people, and they're crazy. If you look at them the wrong way they'll tell themselves it's because you're not _Pure, _and that's about the time you'll need to run like hell."

I raise an eyebrow. "You speak as if from experience."

He shrugs vaguely, an amused grin creeping onto his face.

"What about you, then?" I ask, still a little disgusted, though not altogether surprised. "Are you 'pure'?"

"Yup," he says. "Never trusted that shit. I knew it was sketchy as hell. I tried to talk people out of getting it, but no one listens to the crazy guy."

"Crazy guy?" A flicker of dull panic laps at my ribcage, but only for a moment. "Is this the time I'm supposed to run like hell?"

He laughs. "No, no. You don't have to be afraid of me." Inexplicably, I'm not. I should be. I definitely should be. I don't know this man, he could be anyone...anything. But against my better judgement, I just trust him.

He looks at me in a way that makes my stomach flip, not necessarily in a bad way. "I'm not that kind of crazy."

My mouth twists into a wry smile. "What kind, then?"

Instead of answering, he says, "You look really tired."

"I am," I say, sort of just realizing it myself. "I haven't slept in days."

"Jesus," he sighs, standing up. "Here, the bed's all yours."

I move toward it, already half asleep, yet somehow buzzing at the same time. "I haven't had more than a couple hours of sleep since..." I trail off. I don't even know.

"I just can't believe..." he says with a note of wonder in his voice, "...out there by yourself...shit. My sob story must sound like a cake walk compared to yours."

I shake my head. "Of course not." It does, just a little bit. But he's lost people, just like I have. He knows. He knows.

"You can talk about it, if you want." he says, helping me into the bed and pulling the thin covers over me like a little child. "You don't have to. But if you want to, I'll listen."

"Thank you," I say, like I've said so many times tonight. "You're...you're really kind." My eyelids flutter. I can't believe I'm in a bed. I try to smile. "What's the catch?"

"I'm going to steal your credit cards while you sleep," he tells me. "And buy all sorts of impractical things on the internet."

This time I do laugh. I think I'm just a little bit hysterical. And so, so tired. I finally say, "You can lay with me, if you want." I know he's basically a stranger, but I just...want to be close to someone. It's been so long. I've been so alone. And I think he must feel the same way, because he slides into bed next to me without comment, without any wink or joking air.

"Get some rest," he says against my ear. "Sleep."

And just like that, as if my body had been waiting for permission, I do.

* * *

My eyes fly open and the first thing I am aware of the is the complete darkness all around me. I have no idea where I am. How long have I been asleep? My body jolts upright, trying to make sense of my surroundings.

A presence beside me stirs. I jump.

"Sage?" A sleepy voice asks. "You okay?"

Slowly the memories piece themselves together in my mind. I remember walking up the hill. Falling. Almost dying. Adrian. The D-Day bunker. The shower. I take a deep breath. "I'm sorry," I whisper. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"S'okay," he mumbles, "you have a bad dream?"

"Yes," I say, even though I'm not sure if that's true.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. I feel him sit up next to me. I don't realize, until his arm is around me, that I've been shaking.

"Did you wake up and not know where you were?"

"Sort of," I admit.

He makes a comforting sound and rubs his hands up and down my arms briefly and in some distant part of my brain I think about how if this had been happening, you know, _Before_...how exciting it would be. Alone with a handsome boy in a bed. But I feel no excitement now. No delightful nervousness. Nothing. I dig inside myself for any emotion, really, but I come up empty. The innate will to survive is still there, but aside from that I don't feel much of anything. Even my fear is decidedly half-assed. The realization of my numbness is unsettling, like I'm losing part of myself, becoming less human, and I'd probably panic if I had it in me to do so. I don't.

"It's okay." Adrian says, as if he can read my thoughts. And then, "You remember me, right?"

"Yes, Adrian." I say, slowly lying back down onto the bed.

"I'm pretty hard to forget," and I swear, I can hear his smirk in the darkness.

I wonder if he always has to balance out being serious with inappropriate humor. If that's how he copes. Or if that's just how he's always been. My hand brushes up against his. Without thinking much of it, I thread my fingers through his. I don't know how to tell him just how much I appreciate what he's done for me or how even though we virtually know nothing about each other, how happy I am that out of all the houses on hills in the world, I am glad that I climbed up to this one. I squeeze his hand. He squeezes back. In spite of everything, I feel safe. In spite of everything, I feel hope.

* * *

It's odd how easy it is to forget, here in this strange little place with this strange, beautiful boy, the nightmare that rages on outside these walls. Neither of us have left the place in a couple weeks. We've been too busy doing other things, like playing twenty questions, daring each other to eat the grossest looking MREs the bunker has to offer, and laying in bed for hours at a time, just touching each other. No. Not like _that_. I know it sounds weird, but it's not. We have to do it. The feel of warm skin, of a steady beating heart, it keeps us human. Keeps us sane.

"Can you guess what I'm writing?" I ask as my finger traces across Adrian's bare chest.

"Hmm..." he furrows his brow in thought, "B...T...V...R?"

I laugh. "You're cold, ice cold."

"Go slower," he grins. I retrace my message, slowly this time.

"Okay, B...E?"

I laugh again. "Nope."

"I don't like this game," he pouts.

"You were right about the b," I tell him. "It was the quadratic formula."

He scoffs loudly. "And where was the x? Or the equals sign?"

"I was going to do that part last," I say. "That's how I always write it."

"Well no wonder I couldn't guess," he says, "with your ass backwards mathematcianing."

"I was quite a good mathematician in my day, thank you very much."

"Is that what you were going to school for?" He asks tentatively. It's a topic I've been avoiding. It's not a place I like to travel to in my mind. It brings on painful questions like, what if I hadn't gone away to school? I'd have been with my family with it happened. I'd have been able to save them, maybe. I guess I'll never know. I wasn't there.

"No," I say shortly.

"You know," Adrian says, somehow knowing me well enough to know when to change the subject. "I used to paint."

"Did you?" I ask a little absently, still batting away the dark, regretful thoughts in my head.

"Yes," his voice breaks a little. "I miss it. A lot. It was like...the one thing that really made me happy."

"I'm sorry," I don't know what else to say.

He moves to push some hair back from my face. "Have I ever told you how beautiful your eyes are?"

My face gets hot suddenly. It's not the first time he's complimented the way I look. I never thought I was the sort of girl that boys noticed, but Adrian notices lots of things about me. But I'm the only girl he's seen in a long time, well, the only one who wasn't rotting from the inside out. I'm sure I look a touch more appealing in comparison to that.

"When the light hits them," he continues, "they're like...molten gold. I wish I could paint them."

"I bet you were good," I say a little awkwardly, still slightly thrown by his words. We are after all, a boy and a girl, together at the end of the world. And he's gorgeous. And sweet. I don't think anyone would blame me if I closed the distance between us right now with my mouth. I've thought about it, obviously. But I don't know if I want things to be like that. This, whatever it is we have right now, is good. I don't want to ruin it. "At painting, I mean. You've got artist's hands."

"Yeah? You think so?" He looks down at his hands, his laughter is like music. His eyes are back on me, intense. "Whenever this is all over, and things get back to normal, that's the first thing I want to do...paint you."

At first I'm so unraveled by the second part of what he's said that I don't fully absorb the first part. When it hits me, I frown. "Adrian...you know that's not going to happen right?"

"Why not?" He smirks. "Even if you ditch me for some beefy action hero dude, I could paint you from memory easily. I don't forget beautiful girls."

For the first time his flirting antics don't render me flushed and starry eyed, I'm just...annoyed.

"No, I mean the back-to-normal part." I say sharply, sitting up in the bed. "That's never going to happen."

He sits up with me. "What do you mean?"

"You've seen what's out there," I reply clinically, "And it's just getting worse. I don't think society is going to come back from this."

He gapes at me. "You mean you think we're all just going to die?"

"No," I sigh. "Not exactly. But what you're saying is that you think this is temporary, right? That eventually it will end? And when it does we'll just pick up and rebuild? Just because this is like something out of a horror film doesn't mean it's going to have a Hollywood ending. That's not how things work in real life."

"I'm not saying I think it's going to happen overnight," he rolls his eyes. "But-"

"You don't get it, Adrian. This is it. This is the world now. Chaos, monsters, clinging to life by the skin of our teeth. This is the world we have to live in. If you want to keep living in it, you're going to have to accept that."

"I don't have to accept that," he counters. "Just because you've given up hope doesn't mean I have to."

"It's not that I don't have hope, I'm just being realistic," I snap. I'm so angry at him, suddenly. I'm angry at him for being so naively optimistic, I'm angry at him for having hope, I'm angry at him for almost making me have it too. I'm angry at him for making me smile, laugh, making me forget what I've lost, even if only for a few moments. "Of course I want to keep going, I want to live. And I hope there are others out there doing the same. I hope you're friends are still alive. But clinging to some fantasy of the world going back to the way it was before isn't going to do me any good. The virus is too strong, it's spread too fast, we're already outnumbered Infected to Uninfected, and I'm sure that scale tips more every day. Even if by some...some...divine intervention, all the Infecteds were to be eradicated, then what? Humanity is in shambles, regardless. All that nonsense you told me about _Pures_. You think that's just going to go away?"

He shakes his head. "People will get over that. Most already have. I never should have even told you-"

"Back when there were still news broadcasts," I cut him off, "Before things _really_ went to hell, people were already turning on each other. I heard stories of families being ran out of their homes by gangs looking to take it for their own. Massive, bloody fights over food, over shelter, over nothing. Suicide rates skyrocketing to unprecedented highs. People are so broken, so desperate, sometimes I think-I think-" I heave in a deep breath, my skin hot from ranting.

"Look, I know the world is in the toilet right now. But I have to believe that things can and will get better. Otherwise what's the point? " Adrian looks at me. "Don't you have any faith?"

Instinctively I reach for the cross necklace I lost a long time ago. Its absence scrapes against my insides, reminding me of my family. My vision blurs wet. "I used to."

"We've been cooped up in here for too long," Adrian says softly. There he goes again, changing the subject when he knows he's pinched a nerve in me. "We need to get out, breathe some air, and we'll feel better."

No we won't. But I don't want to fight with him. He did save my life. Offered to share his safe place with me. And he hasn't asked me for anything in return. The least I can do is refrain from being awful to him, even when he's being a miserably optimistic child. So I simply nod, the motion causes a rogue tear to drip down my cheek. Adrian wipes it away before I have the chance to. I blush at the contact.

"Chin up soldier," he tells me, smiling that infuriatingly cheeky smile. "I'm going to teach you how to scavenge like a pro."

Judging by my internal clock, which is never wrong, it's early evening. Adrian tells me we'll be back before darkness falls but just in case, we grab flashlights that hang around our necks. He convinces me to leave my gun behind. I open my mouth to explain how it's not that I plan on using it, I just need to have it with me, but I find that I don't have the energy to try to justify my madness. I settle on just my bat and his machete and we make our way up the stairs. The door unlatches loudly and I wince.

"Don't worry," Adrian whispers. "I do this all the time. Or well, I used to. And I had a lot more back-up in those days...but still."

"Very reassuring," I hiss as he sticks his head up, scanning. He pops back down a few seconds later. "Coast is clear."

"How can you tell?" I ask. All I see above me is black.

"Trial and error," he replies with a wink. He takes a deep breath. "You ready?"

I shake my head, still in disbelief. "As I'll ever be."

With his machete-free hand, he grabs for mine. "Let's go."


End file.
